LEOPARD'^ 


THOMAS  D1XONJB 


'Wfru^ 

University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


GEORGE   R.    POTTER 


2  yellows 2 

3  t>att  .  3  smfcesbire 

4  JBoarDman 4  ibamlin,  t>. 

5  Valentine 5  "QdooDwcll 

B  1  3Bri0fls El  Sones .   .  . 

2  dolvin 2  5>unn  .  -  - 

3  Brew 3  Aerrtll 

4  j&artlett 4  TKabitcomb 

5  Walker 5  Burgfn  .  . 

c  i  dbunson  ....-.*  P  1  tbamlln,  (5. 

2  %ewi0 .  . 2  Damlfn,  D. 

3  TKUooDs     ......  3  Stevens  . 

4  DuDWteton 4  ©rover    .  . 

5  iKllebster 5  TRussell  .  . 


e  JBoofte  is  to  bee  past  to  w 
in  se  <5roupe.  ^«Bumber  of  w  jpersone 
to  wbom  it  is  past,  &  w  Bate  of  passing  are  to 
bee  putte  fcowne.  ^  Bame  of  p.e  persone  in 
Cbarge  of  eacbe  <3roupe  is  inn  reooe  inft.  ©n 
^>as  w  •*•  ^une  B«  s,  5ul«  ^  13.  august  fi«  17, 
September  Be  21,  October  g«  26,  p.c  one  in  cbarge 
sbal  passe  w  5  JSooftes  on  to  £«  one  in  cbarge  of 
^e  nejte  (3roupe. 


THE  LEOPARD'S  SPOTS 


TWO      THOUSAND      MEN      WENT      MAD. 


Can  the  Ethiopian  change  hit  skin  or  the  leopard  his  tprts  f 

THE 

LEOPARD'S    SPOTS 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  WHITE 
MAN'S    BURDEN  —  1 865  - 1900 

BY 

THOMAS  DIXON,  JR. 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  C.  D.  WILLIAMS 


NEW    YORK 

DOUBLED  AY,  PAGE  &  CO. 
1903 


Copyright^  zgoa> 

by 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  <&*  Co. 

^//  r*£#/j  reserved 
PuMWied,  March  «,  i»*. 


TO 

HARRIET 

SWEET-VOICED  DAUGHTER  OF  THE 
OLD  FASHIONED   SOUTH 


Historical    Note 


IN  answer  to  hundreds  of  letters,  I  wish  to  Bay  that  all  the 
incidents  used  in  Book  I.,  which  is  properly  the  prologue  of 
my  story,  were  selected  from  authentic  records,  or  came 
within  my  personal  knowledge. 

The  only  serious  liberty  I  have  taken  with  history  is  to 
tone  down  the  facts  to  make  them  credible  in  fiction.  The 
village  of  **  Hambright "  is  my  birthplace,  and  is  located 
near  the  center  of  "  Military  District  No.  2,"  comprising  the 
Carolinas,  which  were  destroyed  as  States  by  an  Act  of  Con- 
gress in  1867.  It  will  be  a  century  yet  before  people  out- 
side the  South  can  be  made  to  believe  a  literal  statement  of 
the  history  of  those  times. 

I  tried  to  write  this  book  with  the  utmost  restraint 

THOMAS  DIXON,  JR. 

MAY  9,  1902. 

ELMINGTON  MANOR, 

DlXONDALE,  VA. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Two  THOUSAND  MEN  WENT  MAD"  M       «       M       'Erontispiece 

PAGE 

"You  THIEF!*  .«       «       »       «       ;«        •    ^ 

"COME  ON  BOYS!"       .        .        ••  '     •        .-       •«       •*       •  I24 

"  I'LL  KILL  THE  FIRST  NIGGER  THAT  CROSSES  THAT  LINE".  .    132 

"  A  DAZZLING  VISION  OF  BEAUTY  "  t       .        m       «       .«        •  2SO 

"Tms  is  MY  THRONE".        .        ..     '*       *       «       «       •  27° 

TOM  CAMP.        .        .        •        «       f  •      ••'       •'       :«       •  3^4 

"  I   HAVE  RESIGNED  MY  CHURCH— TO  KILL  YOU "      .  .1          .    45° 


LEADING  CHARACTERS  OF  THE  STORY 

Scene:    The  Foothills  of  North  Carolines— Boston— New  York 
Time:   From  1865  to  1900 

CHARLES  GASTON ,  .Who  dreams  of  a  Governor's  Mansion, 

SALLIE  WORTH A  daughter  of  the  old  fashioned  South 

GEN.  DANIEL  WORTH Her  father 

MRS.  WORTH Sallie's  mother 

THE  REV.  JOHN  DURHAM A  preacher  who  threw  his  life  away 

MRS.  DURHAM Of  the  Southern  Army  that  never  surrendered 

TOM  CAMP A  one-legged  Confederate  soldier 

FLORA Tom's  little  daughter 

SIMON  LEGREE Ex-slave  driver  and  Reconstruction  leader 

ALLAN  McLEOD A  Scalawag 

HON.  EVERETT  LOWELL Member  of  Congress  from  Boston 

HELEN  LOWELL His  daughter 

Miss  SUSAN  WALKER A  maiden  of  Bostofi 

MAJOR  STUART  DAMERON Chief  of  the  Ku  Klux  Klan 

HOSE  NORMAN A  dare-devil  poor  white  man 

NELSE A  black  hero  of  the  old  regime 

AUNT  EVE His  wife — "  a  respectable  woman." 

HON.  TIM  SHELBY Political  boss  of  the  new  era 

HON.  PETE  SAWYER Sold  seven  times,  got  the  money  once 

GEORGE  HARRIS,  JR An  Educated  Negro,  son  of  Eliza 

DICK ..An  uniolvcd  riddle 


CONTENTS 
BOOK  I 


PAGE 

I.  A  HERO  RETURNS      .        .        .       *  «  •  *      3 

n.  A  LIGHT  SHINING  IN  DARKNESS     v.  ,«  w  «    19 

III.  DEEPENING  SHADOWS        .        .        M  a  M  .30 

IV.  MR.  LINCOLN'S  DREAM     .  ,     .        ,.-  ,.-,  r.  .     34 
V.  THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  CHURCH      .  .  .  .38 

VI.  THE  PREACHER  AND  THE  WOMAN  OF  BOSTON  .  .    44 

VII.  THE  HEART  OF  A  CHILD    ...  .  .  .     52 

VIII.  AN  EXPERIMENT  IN  MATRIMONY       .....     58 

IX.  A  MASTER  OF  MEN    .......    63 

X.  THE  MAN  OR  BRUTE  IN  EMBRYO       .  .  .  .72 

XI.  SIMON  LEGREE  .....  .  .  .83 

XII.  RED  SNOW  DROPS      .       •«       .       w  M  .  .    93 

XIII.  DICK         .                                :.,       ...  «,  .  .    98 

XIV.  THE  NEGRO  UPRISING       .       M       .,  ,.,  .  .100 
XV.  THE  NEW  CITIZEN  KING   .                .  m  .  .104 

XVI.  LEGREE  SPEAKER  OF  THE  HOUSE         M  ..  ,  «  109 

XVII.  THE  SECOND  REIGN  OF  TERROR  .,       M  M  *  .  118 

XVIII.  THE  RED  FLAG  OF  THE  AUCTIONEER   .  M  «  .130 

XIX.  THE  RALLY  OF  THE  CLANSMEN  .        *  m  •  .  143 

XX.  How  CIVILIZATION  WAS  SAVED  .,       .  w  «  .  153 

XXI.  THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  NEGRO  .        .  »  .  «  163 

XXII.  THE  DANGER  OF  PLAYING  WITH  Fnos.  .  .  *  165 

XXIII.  THE  BIRTH  OF  A  SCALAWAG     .•       M  .,  .  .171 

XXIV.  A  MODERN  MIRACLE  .       „       .      >  ^  .  .  176 

xi 


xfi  Contents 

BOOK  H 
!&o\>e's  Bream 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  BLUE  EYES  AND  BLACK  HAIR    .        .        .        .        .  187 
II.  THE  VOICE  OF  THE  TEMPTER 193 

III.  FLORA       .        .        . 200 

IV.  THE  ONE  WOMAN    .        j      V       .        .        .        .  206 
V.  THE  MORNING  OF  LOVE      .        .        .        .        .  * ^    .  213 

VI.  BESIDE  BEAUTIFUL  WATERS       .     '  '.        ..      .        .  221 

VII.  DREAMS  AND  FEARS  .        .'        .        .        .        .        .  234 

VIII.  THE  UNSOLVED  RIDDLE      .        .        .        .        .        .240 

IX.  THE  RHYTHM  OF  THE  DANCE    .  .        .        .244 

X.  THE  HEART  OF  A  VILLAIN  .'."..        .        .        .  256 

XI.  THE  OLD,  OLD  STORY        .        .        .        .        .        .265 

XII.  THE  Music  OF  THE  MILLS 277 

XIII.  THE  FIRST  Kiss       .        .        .        .        .        .        .282 

XIV.  A  MYSTERIOUS  LETTER       .        .        .        .        .        .286 

XV.  A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK 290 

XVI.  THE  MYSTERY  OF  PAIN     .        „        .        .        .        .301 

XVII.  Is  GOD  OMNIPOTENT?        .        .        .        .        .        .  306 

XVIII.  THE  WAYS  OF  BOSTON       ......  310 

XIX.  THE  SHADOW  OF  A  DOUBT        .  '      .        .        .        .  317 

XX.  A  NEW  LESSON  IN  LOVE  .        .        .        .        .  320 

XXI.  WHY  THE  PREACHER  THREW  His  LIFE  AWAY    .        .  328 
XXII.  THE  FLESH  AND  THE  SPIRIT     ..       M  ;    .       :.,       ,  337 


Contents  xiii 


BOOK  III 

Ube  ttrfal  b£  jfire 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  GROWL  BENEATH  THE  EARTH  .        .  M  w  .  349 

II.  FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  FATE  .        .        .,  w  „  ..  351 

III.  A  WHITE  LIE  .        .        »        .        «  «  M  .  361 

IV.  THE  UNSPOKEN  TERROR    .        .       ,«  M  M  .  364 
V.  A  THOUSAND-LEGGED  BEAST      .        ...  „.  w  .  372 

VI.  THE  BLACK  PERIL    .        .        .        .  w  K  .  381 

VII.  EQUALITY  WITH  A  RESERVATION.        .  ;.  M  .  385 

VIII.  THE  NEW  SIMON  LEGREE.        .        .  >,  :.  .  395 

IX.  THE  NEW  AMERICA .  404 

X.  ANOTHER  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE.  .  .  409 

XI.  THE  HEART  OF  A  WOMAN.                 .  .  ..  .41? 

XII.  THE  SPLENDOUR  OF  SHAMELESS  LOVE.  ..*  ,:  .  423 

XIII.  A  SPEECH  THAT  MADE  HISTORY      .  .  «  .  431 

XIV.  THE  RED  SHIRTS      .        .        .        .  ...  *  .  445 

XV.  THE  HIGHER  LAW    .        .        .        .  .  -..-  .  447 

XVI.  THE  END  OF  A  MODERN  VILLAIN      .  .  ./'  .  455 

XVII.  WEDDING  BELLS  IN  THE  GOVERNOR'S  MANSION  ...  .  457 


LEGREE'S  REGIME 


THE  LEOPARD'S  SPOTS 


3Boofc  ©ne—  Xearee's 


CHAPTER  I 
A  HERO  RETURNS 

ON  the  field  of  Appomattox  General  Lee  was  wait- 
ing the  return  of  a  courier.  His  handsome  face 
was  clouded  by  the  deepening  shadows  of  de- 
feat. Rumours  of  surrender  had  spread  like  wildfire,  and 
the  ranks  of  his  once  invincible  army  were  breaking  into 
chaos. 

Suddenly  the  measured  tread  of  a  brigade  was  heard 
marching  into  action,  every  movement  quick  with  the 
perfect  discipline,  the  fire,  and  the  passion  of  the  first  days 
of  the  triumphant  Confederacy; 

"  What  brigade  is  that?  "  he  sharply  asked. 

"  Cox's  North  Carolina,"  an  aid  replied. 

As  the  troops  swept  steadily  past  the  General,  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  he  lifted  his  hat,  and  exclaimed, 

"  God  bless  old  North  Carolina  !  " 

The  display  of  matchless  discipline  perhaps  recalled  to 
the  great  commander  that  awful  day  of  Gettysburg  when 
the  Twenty-sixth  North  Carolina  infantry  had  charged 
with  820  men  rank  and  file  and  left  704  dead  and  wounded 
on  the  ground  that  night.  Company  F  from  Campbell 
county  charged  with  91  men  and  lost  every  man  killed 


4  The  Leopard's  Spots 

and  wounded.  Fourteen  times  their  colours  were  shot 
down,  and  fourteen  times  raised  again.  The  last  time 
they  fell  from  the  hands  of  gallant  Colonel  Harry  Burg- 
wyn,  twenty-one  years  old,  commander  of  the  regiment, 
who  seized  them  and  was  holding  them  aloft  when  in- 
stantly killed. 

The  last  act  of  the  tragedy  had  closed.  Johnston  sur- 
rendered to  Sherman  at  Greensboro  on  April  26th,  1865, 
and  the  Civil  War  ended, — the  bloodiest,  most  destruc- 
tive war  the  world  ever  saw.  The  earth  had  been  bap- 
tized in  the  blood  of  five  hundred  thousand  heroic  soldiers, 
and  a  new  map  of  the  world  had  been  made. 

The  ragged  troops  were  straggling  home  from  Greens- 
boro and  Appomattox  along  the  country  roads.  There 
were  no  mails,  telegraph  lines  or  railroads.  The  men 
were  telling  the  story  of  the  surrender.  White-faced 
women  dressed  in  coarse  homespun  met  them  at  their 
doors  and  with  quivering  lips  heard  the  news. 

Surrender ! 

A  new  word  in  the  vocabulary  of  the  South — a  word  so 
terrible  in  its  meaning  that  the  date  of  its  birth  was  to 
be  the  landmark  of  time.  Henceforth  all  events  would  be 
reckoned  from  this ;  "  before  the  Surrender,"  or  "  after 
the  Surrender." 

Desolation  everywhere  marked  the  end  of  an  era.  Not 
a  cow,  a  sheep,  a  horse,  a  fowl,  or  a  sign  of  animal  life 
save  here  and  there  a  stray  dog,  to  be  seen.  Grim  chim- 
neys marked  the  site  of  once  fair  homes.  Hedgerows  of 
tangled  blackberry  briar  and  bushes  showed  where  a  fence 
had  stood  before  war  breathed  upon  the  land  with  its 
breath  of  fire  and  harrowed  it  with  teeth  of  steel. 

These  tramping  soldiers  looked  worn  and  dispirited. 
Their  shoulders  stooped,  they  were  dirty  and  hungry. 
They  looked  worse  than  they  felt,  and  they  felt  that  the 
end  of  the  world  had  come. 


A  Hero  Returns  J 

They  had  answered  those  awful  commands  to  charge 
without  a  murmur;  and  then,  rolled  back  upon  a  sea  of 
blood,  they  charged  again  over  the  dead  bodies  of  their 
comrades.  When  repulsed  the  second  time  and  the  mad 
cry  for  a  third  charge  from  some  desperate  commander 
had  rung  over  the  field,  still  without  a  word  they  pulled 
their  old  ragged  hats  down  close  over  their  eyes  as  though 
to  shut  out  the  hail  of  bullets,  and,  through  level  sheets  of 
blinding  flame,  walked  straight  into  the  jaws  of  hell.  This 
had  been  easy.  Now  their  feet  seemed  to  falter  as  though 
they  were  not  sure  of  the  road. 

In  every  one  of  these  soldier's  hearts,  and  over  all  the 
earth  hung  the  shadow  of  the  freed  Negro,  trans- 
formed by  the  exigency  of  war  from  a  Chattel  to  be 
bought  and  sold  into  a  possible  Beast  to  be  feared  and 
guarded.  Around  this  dusky  figure  every  white  man's 
soul  was  keeping  its  grim  vigil. 

North  Carolina,  the  typical  American  Democracy,  had 
loved  peace  and  sought  in  vain  to  stand  between  the  mad 
passions  of  the  Cavalier  of  the  South  and  the  Puritan 
fanatic  of  the  North.  She  entered  the  war  at  last  with  a 
sorrowful  heart  but  a  soul  clear  in  the  sense  of  tragic 
duty.  She  sent  more  boys  to  the  front  than  any  other- 
state  of  the  Confederacy — and  left  more  dead  on  the  field. 
She  made  the  last  charge  and  fired  the  last  volley  for 
Lee's  army  at  Appomattox. 

These  were  the  ragged  country  boys  who  were  slowly 
tramping  homeward.  The  group  whose  fortunes  we  are 
to  follow  were  marching  toward  the  little  village 
of  Hambright  that  nestled  in  the  foothills  of  the 
Blue  Ridge  under  the  shadows  of  King's  Mountain. 
They  were  the  sons  of  the  men  who  had  first  declared  their 
independence  of  Great  Britain  in  America  and  had  made 
their  country  a  hornet's  nest  for  Lord  Cornwallis  in 
the  darkest  days  of  the  cause  of  Liberty.  What  tongue 


6  The  Leopard's  Spots 

can  tell  the  tragic  story  of  their  humble  home  com- 
ing? 

In  rich  Northern  cities  could  be  heard  the  boom  of 
guns,  the  scream  of  steam  whistles,  the  shouts  of  surging 
hosts  greeting  returning  regiments  crowned  with  victory. 
From  every  flag-staff  fluttered  proudly  the  flag  that  our 
fathers  had  lifted  in  the  sky — the  flag  that  had  never  met 
defeat. 

It  is  little  wonder  that  in  this  hour  of  triumph  the  world 
should  forget  the  defeated  soldiers  who  without  a  dollar 
in  their  pockets  were  tramping  to  their  ruined  homes. 

Yet  Nature  did  not  seem  to  know  of  sorrow  or  death. 
Birds  were  singing  their  love  songs  from  the  hedgerows, 
the  fields  were  clothed  in  gorgeous  robes  of  wild  flowers 
beneath  which  forget-me-nots  spread  their  contrasting 
hues  of  blue,  while  life  was  busy  in  bud  and  starting  leaf 
reclothing  the  blood-stained  earth  in  radiant  beauty. 

As  the  sun  was  setting  behind  the  peaks  of  the 
Blue  Ridge,  a  giant  negro  entered  the  village  of  Ham- 
bright.  He  walked  rapidly  down  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal streets,  passed  the  court  house  square  unobserved 
in  the  gathering  twilight,  and  three  blocks  further  along- 
paused  before  a  law-office  that  stood  in  the  corner  of  a 
beautiful  lawn  filled  with  shrubbery  and  flowers. 

"  Dars  de  ole  home,  praise '  de  Lawd !  En  now  Fse 
erfeard  ter  see  my  Missy,  en  tell  her  Marse  Charles's 
daid.  Hit'll  kill  her !  Lawd  hab  mussy  on  my  po  black 
soul!  How  kin  I!" 

He  walked  softly  up  the  alley  that  led  toward  the 
kitchen  past  the  "big"  house,  which  after  all  was  a 
modest  cottage  boarded  up  and  down  with  weatherstrips 
nestling  amid  a  labyrinth  of  climbing  roses,  honey- 
suckles, fruit  bearing  shrubbery  and  balsam  trees.  The 
negro  had  no  difficulty  in  concealing  his  movements  as 
he  passed. 


A  Hero  Returns  7 

"  Lordy,  dars  Missy  watchin'  at  de  winder !  How  pale 
she  look !  En  she  wuz  de  purties'  bride  in  de  two  coun- 
ties !  God-der-mighty,  I  mus'  git  somebody  ter  he'p  me ! 
I  nebber  tell  her!  She  drap  daid  right  'fore  my  eyes, 
en  hant  me  twell  I  die.  I  run  fetch  de  Preacher,  Marse 
John  Durham,  he  kin  tell  her." 

A  few  moments  later  he  was  knocking  at  the  door  of 
the  parsonage  of  the  Baptist  church. 

"  Nelse !    At  last !     I  knew  you'd  come !  " 

"  Yassir,  Marse  John,  I'se  home.    Hit's  me." 

"  And  your  Master  is  dead.  I  was  sure  of  it,  but  I 
never  dared  tell  your  Mistress.  You  came  for  me  to  help 
you  tell  her.  People  said  you  had  gone  over  into  the 
promised  land  of  freedom  and  forgotten  your  people ;  but 
Nelse,  I  never  believed  it  of  you  and  I'm  doubly  glad 
to  shake  your  hand  to-night  because  you've  brought  a 
brave  message  from  heroic  lips  and  because  you  have 
brought  a  braver  message  in  your  honest  black  face  of 
faith  and  duty  and  life  and  love." 

"  Thankee  Marse  John,  I  wuz  erbleeged  ter  come 
home." 

The  Preacher  stepped  into  the  hall  and  called  the  serv- 
ant from  the  kitchen. 

"  Aunt  Mary,  when  your  Mistress  returns  tell  her  I've 
received  an  urgent  call  and  will  not  be  at  home  for 
sapper." 

"  I'll  be  ready  in  a  minute,  Nelse,"  he  said,  as  he  dis- 
appeared into  the  study.  When  he  reached  his  desk,  he 
paused  and  looked  about  the  room  in  a  helpless  way  as 
though  trying  to  find  some  half  forgotten  volume  in 
the  rows  of  books  that  lined  the  walls  and  lay  in  piles 
on  his  desk  and  tables.  He  knelt  beside  the  desk  and 
prayed.  When  he  rose  there  was  a  soft  light  in  his 
eyes  that  were  half  filled  with  tears. 

Standing  in  the  dim  light  of  his  study  he  was  a  strik- 


8  The  Leopard's  Spots 

ing  man.  He  had  a  powerful  figure  of  medium  height, 
deep  piercing  eyes  and  a  high  intellectual  forehead.  His 
hair  was  black  and  thick.  He  was  a  man  of  culture,  had 
graduated  at  the  head  of  his  class  at  Wake  Forest  College 
before  the  war,  and  was  a  profound  student  of  men  and 
books.  He  was  now  thirty-five  years  old  and  the  ac- 
knowledged leader  of  the  Baptist  denomination  in  the 
state.  He  was  eloquent,  witty,  and  proverbially  good 
natured.  His  voice  in  the  pulpit  was  soft  and  clear, 
and  full  of  a  magnetic  quality  that  gave  him  hypnotic 
power  over  an  audience.  He  had  the  prophetic  tempera- 
ment and  was  more  of  poet  than  theologian. 

The  people  of  this  village  were  proud  of  the  man  as 
a  citizen  and  loved  him  passionately  as  their  preacher. 
Great  churches  had  called  him,  but  he  had  never  ac- 
cepted. There  was  in  his  make-up  an  element  of  the 
missionary  that  gave  his  personality  a  peculiar  force. 

He  had  been  the  college  mate  of  Colonel  Charles  Gas- 
ton  whose  faithful  slave  had  come  to  him  for  help,  and 
they  had  always  been  bosom  friends.  He  had  performed 
the  marriage  ceremony  for  the  Colonel  ten  years  before 
when  he  had  led  to  the  altar  the  beautiful  daughter  of 
the  richest  planter  in  the  adjoining  county.  Dur- 
ham's own  heart  was  profoundly  moved  by  his  friend's 
happiness  and  he  threw  into  the  brief  preliminary 
address  so  much  of  tenderness  and  earnest  passion 
that  the  trembling  bride  and  ^groom  forgot  their  fright 
and  were  melted  to  tears.  Thus  began  an  association  of 
their  family  life  that  was  closer  than  their  college  days. 

He  closed  his  lips  firmly  for  an  instant,  softly  shut  the 
door  and  was  soon  on  the  way  with  Nelse.  On  reaching 
the  house,  Nelse  went  directly  to  the  kitchen,  while  the 
Preacher  walking  along  the  circular  drive  approached 
the  front.  His  foot  had  scarcely  touched  the  step  when 
Mrs.  Gaston  opened  the  door. 


A  Hero  Returns  9 

"  Oh,  Dr.  Durham,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  I've  been  depressed  to-day,  watching  the  sol- 
diers go  by.  All  day  long  the  poor  foot-sore  fellows  have 
been  passing.  I  stopped  some  of  them  to  ask  about  Colo- 
nel Gaston  and  I  thought  one  of  them  knew  something  and 
would  not  tell  me.  I  brought  him  in  and  gave  him  dinner, 
and  tried  to  coax  him,  but  he  only  looked  wistfully  at 
me,  stammered  and  said  he  didn't  know.  But  some  how 
I  feel  that  he  did.  Come  in  Doctor,  and  say  something 
to  cheer  me.  If  I  only  had  your  faith  in  God ! " 

"  I  have  need  of  it  all  to-night,  Madam !  "  he  answered 
with  bowed  head. 

"  Then  you  have  heard  bad  news  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  news, — wonderful  news  of  faith  and 
love,  of  heroism  and  knightly  valour,  that  will  be  a  price- 
less heritage  to  you  and  yours.  Nelse  has  returned — " 

"  God  have  mercy  on  me !  " — she  gasped  covering  her 
face  and  raising  her  arm  as  though  cowering  from  a 
mortal  blow. 

"  Here  is  Nelse,  Madam.  Hear  his  story.  He  has 
only  told  me  a  word  or  two."  Nelse  had  slipped  quietly 
in  the  back  door. 

"  Yassum,  Missy,  Fse  home  at  las'." 

She  looked  at  him  strangely  for  a  moment.  "  Nelse, 
I've  dreamed  and  dreamed  of  your  coming,  but  always 
with  him.  And  now  you  come  alone  to  tell  me  he  is 
dead.  Lord  have  pity !  there  is  nothing  left !  "  There 
was  a  far-away  sound  in  her  voice  as  though  half 
dreaming. 

"  Yas,  Missy,  dey  is,  I  jes  seed  him — my  young 
Marster — dem  bright  eyes,  de  ve'y  nose,  de  chin,  de  mouf ! 
He  walks  des  like  Marse  Charles,  he  talks  like  him,  he 
de  ve'y  spit  er  him,  en  how  he  hez  growed!  He'll  be 
er  man  fo  you  knows  it.  En  I'se  got  er  letter  fum  his  Pa 
fur  him,  an  er  letter  fur  you,  Missy." 


ID  The  Leopard's  Spots 

At  this  moment  Charlie  entered  the  room,  slipped  past 
Nelse  and  climbed  into  his  mother's  arms.  He  was  a 
sturdy  little  fellow  of  eight  years  with  big  brown  eyes 
and  sensitive  mouth. 

"  Yassir — Ole  Grant  wuz  er  pushin'  us  dar  afo'  Rich- 
mon'.  Pear  ter  me  lak  Marse  Robert  been  er  fightin' 
him  ev'y  day  for  six  monts.  But  he  des  keep  on  pushin' 
en  pushin'  us.  Marse  Charles  say  ter  me  one  night  atter 
I  been  playin'  de  banjer  fur  de  boys,  '  Come  ter  my  tent 
Nelse  fo  turnin'  in — I  wants  ter  see  you/  He  talk  so 
solemn  like,  I  cut  de  banjer  short,  en  go  right  er  long 
wid  him.  He  been  er  writin'  en  done  had  two  letters 
writ.  He  say,  '  Nelse,  we  gwine  ter  git  outen  dese 
trenches  ter-morrer.  It  twell  be  my  las'  charge.  I  feel 
it.  Ef  I  falls,  you  take  my  swode,  en  watch  en  dese 
letters  back  home  to  your  Mist'ess  and  young  Marster, 
en  you  promise  me,  boy,  to  stan'  by  em  in  life  ez  I  stan' 
by  you/  He  know  I  lub  him  bettern  any  body  in  dis 
worl',  en  dat  I'd  rudder  be  his  slave  dan  be  free  if  he's 
daid !  En  1  say,  '  Dat  I  will,  Marse  Charles/ 

"  De  nex  day  we  up  en  charge  ole  Grant.  Pears  ter 
me  I  nebber  see  so  many  dead  Yankees  on  dis  yearth  ez 
we  see  layin'  on  de  groun'  whar  we  brake  froo  dem 
lines !  But  dey  des  kep  f etchin'  up  annudder  army  back 
er  de  one  we  breaks,  twell  bymeby,  dey  swing  er  whole 
millyon  er  Yankees  right  plum  behin'  us,  en  five  millyon 
er  fresh  uns  come  er  swoopin'  down  in  front.  Den  yer 
otter  see  my  Marster!  He  des  kinder  riz  in  de  air — 
pear  ter  me  like  he  wuz  er  foot  taller  en  say  to  his  men 
— '  'Bout  face,  en  charge  de  line  in  de  rear ! '  Wall  sar, 
we  cut  er  hole  clean  froo  dem  Yankees  en  er  minute,  end 
den  bout  face  ergin  en  begin  ter  walk  backerds  er  fight- 
in'  like  wilecats  ev'y  inch.  We  git  mos  back  ter  de 
trenches,  when  Marse  Charles  drap  des  lak  er  flash!  I 
runned  up  to  him.  en  dar  wuz  er  big  hole  in  his  breas' 


A  Hero  Returns  n 

whar  er  bullet  gone  clean  froo  his  heart.  He  nebber 
groan.  I  tuk  his  head  up  in  my  arms  en  cry  en  take  on 
en  call  him !  I  pull  back  his  close  en  listen  at  his  heart. 
Hit  wuz  still.  I  takes  de  swode  an  de  watch  en  de  letters 
outen  de  pockets  en  start  on — when  bress  God,  yer  cum 
dat  whole  Yankee  army  ten  hundred  millyons,  en  dey 
tromple  all  over  us! 

"  Den  I  hear  er  Yankee  say  ter  me  *  Now,  my  man, 
you'se  free/  '  Yassir,  sezzi,  dats  so/  en  den  I  see  a  hole 
ter  run  whar  dey  warn't  no  Yankees,  en  I  run  spang 
into  er  millyon  mo.  De  Yankees  wuz  ev'y  whar.  Pear 
ter  me  lak  dey  riz  up  outer  de  groun'.  All  dat  day  I  try 
ter  get  away  fum  'em.  En  long  'bout  night  dey  'rested 
me  en  fetch  me  up  fo  er  Genr'l,  en  he  say, 

"  What  you  tryin'  ter  get  froo  our  lines  fur,  nigger  ? 
Doan  yer  know  yer  free  now,  en  if  you  go  back  you'd  be 
a  slave  ergin?  " 

"Dats  so,  sah/'  sezzi,  "but  I'se  'bleeged  ter  go 
home." 

"What  fur?"  sezze. 

"  Promise  Marse  Charles  ter  take  dese  letters  en  swode 
en  watch  back  home  to  my  Missus  en  young  Marster, 
en  dey  waitin'  fur  me — I'se  'bleeged  ter  go." 

"  Den  he  tuk  de  letters  en  read  er  minute,  en  his  eyes 
gin  ter  water  en  he  choke  up  en  say,  '  Go-long ! ' 

"  Den  I  skeedaddled  ergin.  Dey  kep  on  ketchin'  me 
twell  bimeby  er  nasty  stinkin  low-life  slue-footed  Yankee 
kotched  me  en  say  dat  I  wuz  er  dang'us  nigger,  en  .sont 
me  wid  er  lot  er  our  prisoners  way  up  ter  ole  Jonson's 
Islan'  whar  I  mos  froze  ter  deaf.  I  stay  dar  twell  one 
day  er  fine  lady  what  say  she  from  Boston  cum  er  long, 
en  I  up  en  tells  her  all  erbout  Marse  Charles  and  my 
Missus,  en  how  dey  all  waitin'  fur  me,  en  how  bad  I  want 
ter  go  home,  en  de  nex  news  I  knowed  I  wuz  on  er  train 
er  whizzin'  down  home  wid  my  way  all  paid.  I  get  wid 


12  The  Leopard's  Spots 

our  men  at  Greensboro  en  come  right  on  fas'  ez  my 
legs'd  carry  me." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment  and  then  slowly  Mrs. 
Gasf  on  said,  "  May  God  reward  you,  Nelse !  " 

"  Yassum,  I'se  free,  Missy,  but  I  gwine  ter  wuk  for 
you  en  my  young  Marster." 

Mrs.  Gaston  had  lived  daily  in  a  sort  of  trance  through 
those  four  years  of  war,  dreaming  and  planning  for  the 
great  day  when  her  lover  would  return  a  handsome 
bronzed  and  famous  man.  She  had  never  conceived  of 
the  possibility  of  a  world  without  his  will  and  love  to 
lean  upon.  The  Preacher  was  both  puzzled  and  alarmed 
by  the  strangely  calm  manner  she  now  assumed.  Before 
leaving  the  home  he  cautioned  Aunt  Eve  to  watch  her 
Mistress  closely  and  send  for  him  if  anything  happened. 

When  the  boy  was  asleep  in  the  nursery  adjoining  her 
room,  she  quietly  closed  the  door,  took  the  sword  of  her 
dead  lover-husband  in  her  lap  and  looked  long  and  ten- 
derly at  it.  On  the  hilt  she  pressed  her  lips  in  a  lingering 
kiss. 

"  Here  his  dear  hand  must  have  rested  last !  "  she 
murmured.  She  sat  motionless  for  an  hour  with  eyes 
fixed  without  seeing.  At  last  she  rose  and  hung  the 
sword  beside  his  picture  near  her  bed  and  drew  from  her 
bosom  the  crumpled,  worn  letters  Nelse  had  brought. 
The  first  was  addressed  to  her. 

"  In  the  Trenches  Near  Richmond,  May  4,  1864. 

"  SWEET  WIFIE  : — I  have  a  presentiment  to-night  that 
I  shall  not  live  to  see  you  again.  I  feel  the  shadows  of 
defeat  and  ruin  closing  upon  us.  I  am  surer  day  by 
day  that  our  cause  is  lost  and  surrender  is  a  word  I 
have  never  learned  to  speak.  If  I  could  only  see  you 
for  one  hour,  that  I  might  tell  you  all  I  have  thought 
in  the  lone  watches  of  the  night  in  camp,  or  marching 


A  Hero  Returns  13 

over  desolate  fields.  Many  tender  things  I  have  never 
said  to  you  I  have  learned  in  these  days.  I  write  this  last 
message  to  tell  you  how,  more  and  more  beyond  the  power 
of  words  to  express,  your  love  has  grown  upon  me,  until 
your  spirit  seems  the  breath  I  breathe.  My  heart  is  so  full 
of  love  for  you  and  my  boy,  that  I  can't  go  into  battle  now 
without  thinking  how  many  hearts  will  ache  and  break  in 
far  away,  homes  because  of  the  work  I  am  about  to  do.  I 
am  sick  of  it  all.  I  long  to  be  at  home  again  and  walk 
with  my  sweet  young  bride  among  the  flowers  she  loves 
so  well,  and  hear  the  old  mocking  bird  that  builds  each 
spring  in  those  rose  bushes  at  our  window. 

If  I  am  killed,  you  must  live  for  our  boy  and  rear 
him  to  a  glorious  manhood  in  the  new  nation  that  will 
be  born  in  this  agony.  I  love  you, — I  love  you  unto  the 
uttermost,  and  beyond  death  I  will  live,  if  only  to  love 
you  forever. 

Always  in  life  or  death  your  own, 

CHARLES/' 

For  two  hours  she  held  this  letter  open  in  her  hands 
and  seemed  unable  to  move  it.  And  then  mechanically 
she  opened  the  one  addressed  to  "  Charles  Gaston,  jr." 

"  MY  DARLING  BOY  : — I  s^end  you  by  Nelse  my  watch 
and  sword.  It  will  be  all  I  can  bequeath  to  you  from 
the  wreck  that  will  follow  the  war.  This  sword  was  your 
great  grandfather's.  He  held  it  as  he  charged  up  the 
heights  of  King's  Mountain  against  Ferguson  and  helped 
to  carve  this  nation  out  of  a  wilderness.  It  was  a  sor- 
rowful day  for  me  when  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  draw  that 
sword  against  the  old  flag  in  defence  of  my  home  and 
my  people.  You  will  live  to  see  a  reunited  country.  Hang 
this  sword  back  beside  the  old  flag  of  our  fathers  when 
the  end  has  come,  and  always  remember  that  it  was  never 


14  The  Leopard's  Spots 

drawn  from  its  scabbard  by  your  father,  or  your  grand- 
father who  fought  with  Jackson  at  New  Orleans,  or  your 
great  grandfather  in  the  Revolution,  save  in  the  cause 
of  justice  and  right.  I  am  not  righting  to  hold  slaves  in 
bondage.  I  am  righting  for  the  inalienable  rights  of  my 
people  under  the  Constitution  our  fathers  created.  It 
may  be  we  have  outgrown  this  Constitution.  But  I 
calmly  leave  to  God  and  history  the  question  as  to  who 
is  right  in  its  interpretation.  Whatever  you  do  in  life, 
first,  last  and  always  do  what  you  believe  to  be  right. 
Everything  else  is  of  little  importance.  With  a  heart 
full  of  love,  Your  father, 

CHARLES  GASTON." 

This  letter  she  must  have  held  open  for  hours,  for  it 
was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  a  wild  peal  of 
laughter  rang  from  her  feverish  lips  and  brought  Aunt 
Eve  and  Nelse  hurrying  into  the  room. 

It  took  but  a  moment  for  them  to  discover  that  their 
Mistress  was  suffering  from  a  violent  delirium.  They 
soothed  her  as  best  they  could.  The  noise  and  confusion 
had  awakened  the  boy.  Running  to  the  door  leading 
into  his  mother's  room  he  found  it  bolted,  and  with  his 
little  heart  fluttering  in  terror  he  pressed  his  ear  close 
to  the  key-hole  and  heard  her  wild  ravings.  How  strange 
her  voice  seemed!  Her  voice  had  always  been  so  soft 
and  low  and  full  of  soothing  music.  Now  it  was  sharp 
and  hoarse  and  seemed  to  rasp  his  flesh  with  needles. 
What  could  it  all  mean?  Perhaps  the  end  of  the  world, 
about  which  he  had  heard  the  Preacher  talk  on  Sundays 
At  last  unable  to  bear  the  terrible  suspense  longer  he 
cried  through  the  key-hole, 

"  Aunt  Eve,  what's  the  matter?    Open  the  door  quick." 

"  No,  honey,  you  mustn't  come  in.  Yo  Ma's  awful 
sick.  You  run  out  ter  de  barn,  ketch  de  mare,  en  fly  for 


A  Hero  Returns  15 

de  doctor  while  me  en  Nelse  stay  wid  her.  Run  honey, 
day's  nuttin'  ter  hurt  yer." 

His  little  bare  feet  were  soon  pattering  over  the 
long  stretch  of  the  back  porch  toward  the  barn.  The 
night  was  clear  and  sky  studded  with  stars.  There 
was  no  moon.  He  was  a  brave  little  fellow,  but  a  fear 
greater  than  all  the  terrors  of  ghosts  and  the  white 
sheeted  dead  with  which  Negro  superstition  had  filled  his 
imagination,  now  nerved  his  child's  soul.  His  mother 
was  about  to  die!  His  very  heart  ceased  to  beat  at  the 
thought.  He  must  bring  the  doctor  and  bring  him 
quickly. 

He  flew  to  the  stable  not  looking  to  the  right  or  the 
left.  The  mare  whinnied  as  he  opened  the  door  to  get 
the  bridle. 

"  It's  me  Bessie.  Mama's  sick.  We  must  go  for  the 
doctor  quick !  " 

The  mare  thrust  her  head  obediently  down  to  the 
child's  short  arm  for  the.  bridle.  She  seemed  to  know 
by  some  instinct  his  quivering  voice  had  roused  that  the 
home  was  in  distress  and  her  hour  had  come  to  bear  a 
part. 

In  a  moment  he  led  her  out  through  the  gate,  climbed 
on  the  fence,  and  sprang  on  her  back. 

"  Now,  Bess,  fly  for  me ! "  he  half  whispered,  half 
cried  through  the  tears  he  could  no  longer  keep  back. 
The  mare  bounded  forward  in  a  swift  gallop  as  she  felt 
his  trembling  bare  legs  clasp  her  side,  and  the  clatter 
of  her  hoofs  echoed  in  the  boy's  ears  through  the  silent 
streets  like  the  thunder  of  charging  cavalry.  How  still 
the  night!  He  saw  shadows  under  the  trees,  shut  his 
eyes  and  leaning  low  on  the  mare's  neck  patted  her 
shoulders  with  his  hands  and  cried, 

"  Faster,  Bessie !  Faster !  "  And  then  he  tried  to  pray. 
"  Lord  don't  let  her  die !  Please,  dear  God,  and  I  will 


16  The  Leopard's  Spots 

always  be  good.  I  am  sorry  I  robbed  the  bird's  nests 
last  summer — I'll  never  do  it  again.  Please,  Lord  I'm 
such  a  wee  boy  and  I'm  so  lonely.  I  can't  lose  my 
Mama !  " — and  the  voice  choked  and  became  a  great  sob. 
He  looked  across  the  square  as  he  passed  the  court  house 
in  a  gallop  and  saw  a  light  in  the  window  of  the  parson- 
age and  felt  its  rays  warm  his  soul  like  an  answer  to  his 
prayer. 

He  reached  the  doctor's  house  on  the  further  side 
of  the  town,  sprang  from  the  mare's  back,  bounded  up 
the  steps  and  knocked  at  the  door.  No  one  answered. 
He  knocked  again.  How  loud  it  rang  through  the.  hall! 
May  be  the  doctor  was  gone !  He  had  not  thought  of 
such  a  possibility  before.  He  choked  at  the  thought. 
Springing  quickly  from  the  steps  to  the  ground  he  felt 
for  a  stone,  bounded  back  and  began  to  pound  on  the 
door  with  all  his  might. 

The  window  was  raised,  and  the  old  doctor  thrust  his 
head  out  calling, 

"What  on  earth's  the  matter?    Who  is  that?" 

"  It's  me,  Charlie  Gaston — my  Mama's  sick — she's 
awful  sick,  I'm  afraid  she's  dying — you  must  come 
quick!" 

"  All  right,  sonny,  I'll  be  ready  in  a  minute." 

The  boy  waited  and  waited.  It  seemed  to  him  hours, 
days,  weeks,  years!  To  every  impatient  call  the  doctor 
would  answer, 

"  In  a  minute,  sonny,  in  a  minute !  " 

At  last  he  emerged  with  his  lantern,  to  catch  his  horse. 
The  doctor  seemed  so  slow.  He  fumbled  over  the  har- 
ness. 

"  Oh !  Doctor  you're  so  slow !  I  tell  you  my  Mama's 
sick—!" 

"Well,  well,  my  boy,  we'll  soon  be  there,"  the  old 
man  kindly  replied. 


A  Hero  Returns  17 

When  the  boy  saw  the  doctor's  horse  jogging  quickly 
toward  his  home  he  turned  the  mare's  head  aside  as  he 
reached  the  court  house  square,  roused  the  Preacher,  and 
between  his  sobs  told  the  story  of  his  mother's  illness. 
Mrs.  Durham  had  lost  her  only  boy  two  years  before. 
Soon  Charlie  was  sobbing  in  her  arms. 

"  You  poor  little  darling,  out  by  yourself  so  late  at 
night,  were  you  not  scared  ?  "  she  asked  as  she  kissed  the 
tears  from  his  eyes. 

"  Yessum,  I  was  scared,  but  I  had  to  go  for  the  doctor. 
I  want  you  and  Dr.  Durham  to  come  as  quick  as  you 
can.  I'm  afraid  to  go  home.  I'm  afraid  she's  dead,  or 
I'll  hear  her  laugh  that  awful  way  I  heard  to-night." 

"  Of  course  we  will  come,  dear,  right  away.  We  will 
be  there  almost  as  soon  as  you  can  get  to  the  house." 

H^  rode  slowly  along  the  silent  street  looking  back 
now  and  then  for  the  Preacher  and  his  wife.  As  he  was 
pass'ig  a  small  deserted  house  he  saw  to  his  horror  a 
ragged  man  peering  into  the  open  window.  Before  he 
had  time  to  run,  the  man  stepped  quickly  up  to  the  mare 
and  said, 

"  Who  lived  here  last,  little  man?  " 

"  Old  Miss  Spurlin,"  answered  the  boy. 

"Where  is  she  now?" 

"  She's  dead." 

The  man  sighed,  and  the  boy  saw  by  his  gray  uniform 
that  he  was  a  soldier  just  back  from  the  war,  and  he 
quickly  added, 

"  Folks  said  they  had  a  hard  time,  but  Preacher  Dur- 
ham helped  them  lots  when  they  had  nothing  to 
eat." 

"  So  my  poor  old  mother's  dead.  I  was  afraid  of  it." 
He  seemed  to  be  talking  to  himself.  "  And  do  you  know 
where  her  gal  is  that  lived  with  her  ?  " 

"  She's  in  a  little  house  down  in  the  woods  below  town. 


18  The  Leopard's  Spots 

They  say  she's  a  bad  woman,  and  my  Mama  would  never 
let  me  go  near  her." 

The  man  flinched  as  though  struck  with  a  knife, 
steadied  himself  for  a  moment  with  his  hands  on  the 
mare's  neck  and  said, 

"  You're  a  brave  little  one  to  be  out  alone  this  time 
o'night, — what's  your  name?" 

"  Charles  Gaston." 

"  Then  you're  my  Colonel's  boy — many  a  time  I  fol- 
lowed him  where  men  were  fallin'  like  leaves — I  wish 
to  God  I  was  with  him  now  in  the  ground!  Don't  tell 
anybody  you  saw  me, — them  that  knowed  me  will  think 
I'm  dead,  and  it's  better  so." 

"  Good-bye,  sir,"  said  the  child  "  I'm  sorry  for  you  if 
you've  got  no  home.  I'm  after  the  doctor  for  my  Mama, 
— she's  very  sick.  I'm  afraid  she's  going  to  die,  and  if 
you  ever  pray  I  wish  you'd  pray  for  her." 

The  soldier  came  closer.  "  I  wish  I  knew  how 
to  pray,  my  boy.  But  it  seemed  to  me  I  forgot  every- 
thing that  was  good  in  the  war,  and  there's  nothin'  left 
but  death  and  hell.  But  I'll  not  forget  you,  good-bye !  " 

When  Charlie  was  in  bed,  he  lay  an  hour  with  wide 
staring  eyes,  holding  his  breath  now  and  then  to  catch 
the  faintest  sound  from  his  mother's  room.  All  was 
quiet  at  last  and  he  fell  asleep.  But  he  was  no  longer 
a  child.  The  shadow  of  a  great  sorrow  had  enveloped  his 
soul  and  clothed  him  with  the  dignity  and  fellowship  of 
the  mystery  of  pain. 


CHAPTER  II 
A  LIGHT  SHINING  IN  DARKNESS 

IN  the  rear  of  Mrs.  Gaston's  place,  there  stood  in  the 
midst  of  an  orchard  a  log  house  of  two  rooms, 
with  hallway  between  them.     There  was  a  mud- 
thatched   wooden  chimney  at   each  end,  and  from  the 
back  of  the  hallway  a  kitchen  extension  of  the  same 
material  with  another  mud  chimney.     The  house  stood 
in  the  middle  of  a  ten  acre  lot,  and  a  woman  was  busy 
in  the  garden  with  a  little  girl,  planting  seed. 

"  Hurry  up  Annie,  less  finish  this  in  time  to  fix  up  a 
fine  dinner  er  greens  and  turnips  an  'taters  an  a  chicken. 
Yer  Pappy  '11  get  home  to-day  sure.  Colonel  Gaston's 
Nelse  come  last  night.  Yer  Pappy  was  in  the  Colonel's 
regiment  an'  Nelse  said  he  passed  him  on  the  road  comin' 
with  two  one-legged  soldiers.  He  ain't  got  but  one  leg, 
he  says.  But,  Lord,  if  there's  a  piece  of  him  left  we'll 
praise  God  an'  be  thankful  for  what  we've  got." 

"  Maw,  how  did  he  look  ?  I  mos'  forgot — 's  been  so 
long  sence  I  seed  him  ?  "  asked  the  child. 

"  Look !  Honey !  He  was  the  handsomest  man  in 
Campbell  county !  He  had  a  tall  fine  figure,  brown  curly 
beard,  and  the  sweetest  mouth  that  was  always  smilin'  at 
me,  an'  his  eyes  twinklin'  over  somethin'  funny  he'd 
seed  or  thought  about.  When  he  was  young  ev'ry  gal 
around  here  was  crazy  about  him.  I  got  him  all  right, 
an'  he  got  me  too.  Oh  me!  I  can't  help  but  cry,  to 
think  he's  been  gone  so  long.  But  he's  comin'  to-day! 
I  jes  feel  it  in  my  bones." 

19 


2O  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Look  a  yonder,  Maw,  what  a  skeer-crow  ridin'  er  ole 
boss !  "  cried  the  girl,  looking  suddenly  toward  the  road. 

"Glory  to  God!  It's  Tom!"  she  shouted,  snatching 
her  old  faded  sun-bonnet  off  her  head  and  fairly  flying 
across  the  field  to  the  gate,  her  cheeks  aflame,  her  blond 
hair  tumbling  over  her  shoulders,  her  eyes  wet  with  tears. 

Tom  was  entering  the  gate  of  his  modest  home  in  as 
fine  style  as  possible,  seated  proudly  on  a  stack  of  bones 
that  had  once  been  a  horse,  an  old  piece  of  wool  on  his 
head  that  once  had  been  a  hat,  and  a  wooden  peg  fitted 
into  a  stump  where  once  was  a  leg.  His  face  was  pale 
and  stained  with  the  red  dust  of  the  hill  roads,  and  his 
beard,  now  iron  grey,  and  his  ragged  buttonless  uniform 
were  covered  with  dirt.  He  was  truly  a  sight  to  scare 
crows,  if  not  of  interest  to  buzzards.  But  to  the  woman 
whose  swift  feet  were  hurrying  to  his  side,  and  whose 
lips  were  muttering  half  articulate  cries  of  love,  he  was 
the  knightliest  figure  that  ever  rode  in  the  lists  before 
the  assembled  beauty  of  the  world. 

"  Oh !  Tom,  Tom,  Tom,  my  ole  man !  You've  come 
at  last ! "  she  sobbed  as  she  threw  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  drew  him  from  the  horse  and  fairly  smothered  him 
with  kisses. 

"  Look  out,  ole  woman,  you'll  break  my  new  leg !  " 
cried  Tom  when  he  could  get  breath. 

"  I  don't  care, — I'll  get  you  another  one,"  she  laughed 
through  her  tears. 

"  Look  out  there  again  you're  smashing  my  game 
shoulder.  Got  er  Minie  ball  in  that  one.  " 

"Well  your  mouth's  all  right  I  see,"  cried  the  de- 
lighted woman,  as  she  kissed  and  kissed  him. 

"  Say,  Annie,  don't  be  so  greedy,  give  me  a  chance  at 
my  young  one."  Tom's  eyes  were  devouring  the  excited 
girl  who  had  drawn  nearer. 

"Come  and  kiss  your  Pappy  and  tell  him  how  glad 


A  Light  Shining  in  Darkness  21 

you  are  to  see  him !  "  said  Tom,  gathering  her  in  his  arms 
and  attempting  to  carry  her  to  the  house. 

He  stumbled  and  fell.  In  a  moment  the  strong  arms 
of  his  wife  were  about  him  and  she  was  helping  him  into 
the  house. 

She  laid  him  tenderly  on  the  bed,  petted  him  and  cried 
over  him.  "  My  poor  old  man,  he's  all  shot  and  cut  to 
pieces.  You're  so  weak,  Tom — I  can't  believe  it.  You 
were  so  strong.  But  we'll  take  care  of  you.  Don't  you 
worry.  You  just  sleep  a  week  and  then  rest  all  summer 
and  watch  us  work  the  garden  for  you ! " 

He  lay  still  for  a  few  moments  with  a  smile  playing 
around  his  lips. 

"  Lord,  ole  woman,  you  don't  know  how  nice  it  is  to 
be  petted  like  that,  to  hear  a  woman's  voice,  feel  her 
breath  on  your  face  and  the  touch  of  her  hand,  warm 
and  soft,  after  four  years  sleeping  on  dirt  and  living  with 
men  and  mules,  and  fightin'  and  runnin'  and  diggin' 
trenches  like  rats  and  moles,  killin'  men,  buryin'  the 
dead  like  carrion,  holdin'  men  while  doctors  sawed  their 
legs  off,  till  your  turn  came  to  be  held  and  sawed !  You 
can't  believe  it,  but  this  is  the  first  feather  bed  I've 
touched  in  four  years.  " 

"Well,  well!— Bless  God  it's  over  now,"  she  cried. 
"  S'long  as  I've  got  two  strong  arms  to  slave  for  you — 
as  long  as  there's  a  piece  of  you  left  big  enough  to  hold 
on  to— I'll  work  for  you,"  and  again  she  bent  low  over 
his  pale  face,  and  crooned  over  him  as  she  had  so  often 
done  over  his  baby  in  those  four  lonely  years  of  war  and 
poverty. 

Suddenly  Tom  pushed  her  aside  and  sprang  up  in  bed. 

"  Geemimy,  Annie,  I  forgot  my  pardners— there's  two 
more  peg-legs  out  at  the  gate  by  this  time  waiting  for 
us  to  get  through  huggin'  and  carryin'  on  before  they 
come  in.  Run,  fetch  'em  in  quick!" 


22  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Tom  struggled  to  his  feet  and  met  them  at  the  door. 

"  Come  right  into  my  palace,  boys.  I've  seen  some 
fine  places  in  my  time,  but  this  is  the  handsomest  one  I 
ever  set  eyes  on.  Now,  Annie,  put  the  big  pot  in  the 
little  one  and  don't  stand  back  for  expenses.  Let's  have 
a  dinner  these  fellers  '11  never  forget." 

It  was  a  feast  they  never  forgot.  Tom's  wife  had 
raised  a  brood  of  early  chickens,  and  managed  to  keep 
them  from  being  stolen.  She  killed  four  of  them  and 
cooked  them  as  only  a  Southern  woman  knows  how. 
She  had  sweet  potatoes  carefully  saved  in  the  mound 
against  the  kitchen  chimney.  There  were  turnips  and 
greens  and  radishes,  young  onions  and  lettuce  and  hot 
corn  dodgers  fit  for  a  king ;  and  in  the  centre  of  the  table 
she  deftly  fixed  a  pot  of  wild  flowers  little  Annie  had 
gathered.  She  did  not  tell  them  that  it  was  the  last  peck 
of  potatoes  and  the  last  pound  of  meal.  This  belonged 
to  the  morrow.  To-day  they  would  live. 

They  laughed  and  joked  over  this  splendid  banquet, 
and  told  stories  of  days  and  nights  of  hunger  and  ex- 
haustion, when  they  had  filled  their  empty  stomachs 
with  dreams  of  home. 

"  Miss  Camp,  you've  got  the  best  husband  in  seven 
states,  did  you  know  that  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  soldiers,  a 
mere  boy. 

"  Of  course  she'll  agree  to  that,  sonny,"  laughed  Tom. 

"  Well  it's  so.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  him,  M'am,  we'd 
a  been  peggin'  along  somewhere  way  up  in  Virginny 
'stead  o'  bein'  so  close  to  home.  You  see  he  let  us  ride 
his  hoss  a  mile  and  then  he'd  ride  a  mile.  We  took  it 
turn  about,  and  here  we  are." 

"Tom,  how  in  this  world  did  you  get  that  horse?" 
asked  his  wife. 

"  Honey,  I  got  him  on  my  good  looks,"  said  lie  with  a 
wink.  "  You  see  I  was  a  settin'  out  there  in  the  sun  the 


A  Light  Shining  in  Darkness  33 

day  o'  the  surrender.  I  was  sorter  cryin'  and  wonderlii' 
how  I'd  get  home  with  that  stump  of  wood  instead  of  a 
foot,  when  along  come  a  chunky  heavy  set  Yankee  Gen- 
eral, looking  as  glum  as  though  his  folks  had  surrendered 
instead  of  Marse  Robert.  He  saw  me,  stopped,  looked  at 
me  a  minute  right  hard  and  says,  "  Where  do  you  live?  " 

"  Way  down  in  ole  No'th  Caliny,"  I  says,  "  at  Ham- 
bright,  not  far  from  King's  Mountain." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  get  home  ?  "  says  he. 

"  God  knows,  I  don't,  General.  I  got  a  wife  and  baby 
down  there  I  ain't  seed  fer  nigh  four  years,  and  I  want 
to  see  'em  so  bad  I  can  taste  'em.  I  was  lookin'  the  other 
way  when  I  said. that,  fer  I  was  purty  well  played  out, 
and  feelin'  weak  and  watery  about  the  eyes,  an'  I  didn't 
want  no  Yankee  General  to  see  water  in  my  eyes." 

"  He  called  a  feller  to  him  and  sorter  snapped  out  to 
him,  "  Go  bring  the  best  horse  you  can  spare  for  this 
man  and  give  it  to  him." 

"  Then  he  turns  to  me  and  seed  I  was  all  choked  up 
and  couldn't  say  nothin'  and  says: 

"  I'm  General  Grant.  Give  my  love  to  your  folks  when 
you  get  home.  I've  known  what  it  was  to  be  a  poor 
white  man  down  South  myself  once  for  awhile." 

"  God  bless  you,  General.  I  thanks  you  from  the  bot- 
tom of  my  heart,"  I  says  as  quick  as  I  could  find  my 
tongue,  "  if  it  had  to  be  surrender  I'm  glad  it  was  to 
such  a  man  as  you. 

"  He  never  said  another  word,  but  just  walked  slow 
along  smoking  a  big  cigar.  So  ole  woman,  you  know  the 
reason  I  named  that  hoss,  '  General  Grant.'  It  may  be 
I  have  seen  finer  bosses  than  that  one,  but  I  couldn't 
recollect  anything  about  'em  on  the  road  home." 

Dinner  over,  Tom's  comrades  rose  and  looked  wist- 
fully down  the  dusty  road  leading  southward. 

"  Well,  Tom,  ole  man,  we  gotter  be  er  movin',"  said  the 


24  The  Leopard's  Spots 

older  of  the  two  soldiers.  "  We're  powerful  obleeged 
to  you  fur  helpin'  us  along  this  fur." 

"  All  right,  boys,  you'll  find  yer  train  standin'  on  the 
side  o'  the  track  eatin'  grass.  Jes  climb  up,  pull  the 
lever  and  let  her  go." 

The  men's  faces  brightened,  their  lips  twitched.  They 
looked  at  Tom,  and  then  at  the  old  horse.  They  looked 
down  the  long  dusty  road  stretching  over  hill  and  valley, 
hundreds  of  miles  south,  and  then  at  Tom's  wife  and 
child,  whispered  to  one  another  a  moment,  and  the  elder 
said: 

"  No,  pardner,  you've  been  awful  good  to  us,  but  we'll 
get  along  somehow — we  can't  take  yer  hoss.  It's  all  yer 
got  now  ter  make  a  livin'  on  yer  place." 

"  All  I  got  ?  "  shouted  Tom,  "  man  alive,  ain't  you  seed 
my  ole  woman,  as  fat  and  jolly  and  han'some  as  when  I 
married  her  'leven  years  ago  ?  Didn't  you  hear  her  cryin' 
an'  shoutin'  like  she's  crazy  when  I  got  home?  Didn't 
you  see  my  little  gal  with  eyes  jes  like  her  daddy's? 
Don't  you  see  my  cabin  standin'  as  purty  as  a  ripe  peach 
in  the  middle  of  the  orchard  when  hundreds  of  fine 
houses  are  lyin'  in  ashes  ?  Ain't  I  got  ten  acres  of  land  ? 
Ain't  I  got  God  Almighty  above  me  and  all  around  me, 
the  same  God  that  watched  over  me  on  the  battlefields? 
All  I  got?  That  old  stack  o'  bones  that  looks  like  er 
hoss  ?  Well  I  reckon  not !  " 

"  Pardner,  it  ain't  right,"  grumbled  the  soldier,  with 
more  of  cheerful  thanks  than  protest  in  his  voice. 

"  Oh !  Get  off  you  fools,"  said  Tom  good-naturedly, 
"  ain't  it  my  hoss  ?  Can't  I  do  what  I  please  with  him  ?  " 

So  with  hearty  hand-shakes  they  parted,  the  two  astride 
the  old  horse's  back.  One  had  lost  his  right  leg,  the  other 
his  left,  and  this  gave  them  a  good  leg  on  each  side  to 
hold  the  cargo  straight. 


A  Light  Shining  in  Darkness  25 

"Take  keer  yerself,  Tom!"  they  both  cried  in  the 
same  breath  as  they  moved  away. 

"  Take  keer  yerselves,  boys.  I'm  all  right  1  "  answered 
Tom,  as  he  stumped  his  way  back  to  the  home.  "  It's  all 
right,  it's  all  right/'  he  muttered  to  himself.  "  He'd  a 
eome  in  handy,  but  I'd  a  never  slept  thinkin'  o'  them 
peggin'  along  them  rough  roads." 

Before  reaching  the  house  he  sat  down  on  a  wooden 
bench  beneath  a  tree  to  rest.  It  was  the  first  week  in  May 
and  the  leaves  were  not  yet  grown.  The  sun  was  pour- 
ing his  hot  rays  down  into  the  moist  earth,  and  the  heat 
began  to  feel  like  summer.  As  he  drank  in  the  beauty 
and  glory  of  the  spring  his  soul  was  melted  with  joy. 
The  fruit  trees  were  laden  with  the  promise  of  the  treas- 
ures of  the  summer  and  autumn,  a  cat-bird  was  singing 
softly  to  his  mate  in  the  tree  over  his  head,  and  a  mock- 
ing-bird seated  in  the  topmost  branch  of  an  elm  near  his 
cabin  home  was  leading  the  oratorio  of  feathered  song- 
sters. The  wild  plum  and  blackberry  briars  were  in  full 
bloom  in  the  fence  corners,  and  the  sweet  odour  filled  the 
air.  He  heard  his  wife  singing  in  the  house. 

"  It's  a  fine  old  world  after  all ! "  he  exclaimed  leaning 
back  and  half  closing  his  eyes,  while  a  sense  of  ineffable 
peace  filled  his  soul.  "  Peace  at  last !  Thank  God !  May 
I  never  see  a  gun  or  a  sword,  or  hear  a  drum  or  a  fife's 
scream  on  this  earth  again ! " 

A  hound  came  close  wagging  his  tail  and  whining  for 
a  word  of  love  and  recognition. 

"  Well,  Bob,  old  boy,  you're  the  only  one  left.  You'll 
have  to  chase  cotton-tails  by  yourself  now." 

Bob's  eyes  watered  and  he  licked  his  master's  hand 
apparently  understanding  every  word  he  said. 

Breaking  from  his  master's  hands  the  dog  ran  toward 
the  gate  barking,  and  Tom  rose  in  haste  as  he  recognised 


26  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  sturdy  tread  of  the  Preacher,  Rev,  John  Durham, 
walking  rapidly  toward  the  house. 

Grasping  him  heartily  by  the  hand  the  Preacher  said, 

"  Tom,  you  don't  know  how  it  warms  my  soul  to  look 
into  your  face  again.  When  you  left,  I  felt  like  a  man 
•who  had  lost  one  hand.  I've  found  it  to-day.  You're 
the  same  stalwart  Christian  full  of  joy  and  love.  Some 
men's  religion  didn't  stand  the  wear  and  tear  of  war: 
You've  come  out  with  your  soul  like  gold  tried  in  the 
fire.  Colonel  Gaston  wrote  me  you  were  the  finest 
soldier  in  the  regiment,  and  that  you  were  the 
only  Chaplain  he  had  seen  that  he  could  consult  for 
his  own  soul's  cheer.  That's  the  kind  of  a  deacon  to 
send  to  the  front!  I'm  proud  of  you,  and  you're  still 
at  your  old  tricks.  I  met  two  one-legged  soldiers  down 
the  road  riding  your  horse  away  as  though  you  had  a 
stable  full  at  your  command.  You  needn't  apologise  or 
explain,  they  told  me  all  about  it." 

"  Preacher,  it's  good  to  have  the  Lord's  messenger 
speak  words  like  them.  I  can't  tell  you  how  glad  I  am 
to  be  home  again  and  shake  your  hand.  I  tell  you  it  was 
a  comfort  to  me  when  I  lay  awake  at  night  on  them 
battlefields,  a  wonderin'  what  had  become  of  my  ole 
woman  and  the  baby,  to  recollect  that  you  were  here,  and 
how  often  I'd  heard  you  tell  us  how  the  Lord  tempered 
the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb.  Annie's  been  telling  me  who 
watched  out  for  her  them  dark  days  when  there  was 
nothin'  to  eat.  I  reckon  you  and  your  wife  knows  the 
way  to  this  house  about  as  well  as  you  do  to  the  church." 

Tom  had  pulled  the  Preacher  down  on  the  seat  be- 
side him  while  he  said  this. 

"  The  dark  days  have  only  begun,  Tom.  I've  come 
to  see  you  to  have  you  cheer  me  up.  Somehow  you  al- 
ways seemed  to  me  to  be  closer  to  God  than  any  man  in 
the  church.  You  will  need  all  your  faith  now.  It  seems 


A  Light  Shining  in  Darkness  27 

to  me  that  every  second  woman  I  know  is  a  widow. 
Hundreds  of  families  have  no  seed  even  to  plant,  no 
horses  to  work  crops,  no  men  who  will  work  if  they  had 
horses.  What  are  we  to  do?  I  see  hungry  children  in 
every  house." 

"  Preacher,  the  Lord  is  looking  down  here  to-day  and 
sees  all  this  as  plain  as  you  and  me.  As  long  as  He  is 
in  the  sky  everything  will  come  all  right  on  the  earth." 

"  How's  your  pantry  ?  "  asked  the  Preacher. 

"  Don't  know.  '  Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone/ 
you  know.  When  I  hear  these  birds  in  the  trees  an'  see 
this  old  dog  waggin'  his  tail  at  me,  and  smell  the  breath 
of  them  flowers,  and  it  all  comes  over  me  that  I'm  done 
killin'  men,  and  I'm  at  home,  with  a  bed  to  sleep  on,  a 
roof  over  my  head,  a  woman  to  pet  me  and  tell  me  I'm 
great  and  handsome,  I  don't  feel  like  I'll  ever  need  any- 
thing more  to  eat !  I  believe  I  could  live  a  whole  month 
here  without  eatin'  a  bite." 

"  Good.  You  come  to  the  prayer  meeting  to-night 
and  say  a  few  things  like  that,  and  the  folks  will  believe 
they  have  been  eating  three  square  meals  every  day." 

"  I'll  be  there.  I  ain't  asked  Annie  what  she's  got, 
but  I  know  she's  got  greens  and  turnips,  onions  and  col- 
lards,  and  strawberries  in  the  garden.  Irish  tat"*s  '11  be 
big  enough  to  eat  in  three  weeks,  and  sweets  connn'  right 
on.  We've  got  a  few  chickens.  The  blackberries  and 
plums  and  peaches  and  apples  are  all  on  the  road.  Ah! 
Preacher,  it's  my  soul  that's  been  starved  away  from  my 
wife  and  child!" 

"You  don't  know  how  much  I  need  help  sometimes 
Tom.  I  am  always  giving,  giving  myself  in  sympathy 
and  help  to  others,  I'm  famished  now  and  then.  I  feel 
faint  and  worn  out.  You  seem  to  fill  me  again  with 
life." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  Preacher.    I  get  down- 


28  The  Leopard's  Spots 

hearted  sometimes,  when  I  recollect  I'm  nothin'  but  a 
poor  white  man.  I'll  remember  your  words.  I'm  goin' 
to  do  my  part  in  the  church  work.  You  know  where  to 
fold  me." 

"  Well,  that's  partly  what  brought  me  here  this  morn- 
ing. I  want  you  to  help  me  look  after  Mrs.  Gaston  and 
her  little  boy.  She  is  prostrated  over  the  death  of  the 
Colonel  and  is  hanging  between  life  and  death.  She  is  in 
a  delirious  condition  all  the  time  and  must  be  watched 
day  and  night.  I  want  you  to  watch  the  first  half  of  the 
night  with  Nelse,  and  Eve  and  Mary  will  watch  the  last 
half." 

"  Of  course,  I'll  do  anything  in  the  world  I  can  for 
my  Colonel's  widder.  He  was  the  bravest  man  that  ever 
led  a  regiment,  and  he  was  a  father  to  us  boys.  I'll  be 
there.  But  I  won't  set  up  with  that  nigger.  He  can 
go  to  bed." 

"  Tom,  it's  a  funny  thing  to  me  that  as  good  a  Christian 
as  you  are  should  hate  a  nigger  so.  He's  a  human  being. 
It's  not  right." 

"  He  may  be  human,  Preacher,  I  don't  know.  To  tell 
you  the  truth,  I  have  my  doubts.  Anyhow,  I  can't  help 
it.  God  knows  I  hate  the  sight  of  'em  like  I  do  a  rattle- 
snake. That  nigger  Nelse,  they  say  is  a  good  one.  He 
was  faithful  to  the  Colonel,  I  know,  but  I  couldn't  bear 
him  no  more  than  any  of  the  rest  of  'em.  I  always  hated 
a  nigger  since  I  was  knee  high.  My  daddy  and  my 
mammy  hated  'em  before  me.  Somehow,  we  always  felt 
like  they  was  crowdin'  us  to  death  on  them  big  planta- 
tions, and  the  little  ones  too.  And  then  I  had  to  leave 
my  w?*'  and  baby  and  fight  four  years,  all  on  account 
cf  their  stinkin'  hides,  that  never  done  nothin'  for  me 
except  make  it  harder  to  live.  Every  time  I'd  go  into 
battle  and  hear  them  Minie  balls  begin  to  sing  over  us, 
it  seemed  to  me  I  could  see  their  black  ape  faces  grin-1 


A  Light  Shining  in  Darkness  29 

nin'  and  makin'  fun  of  poor  whites.  At  night  when 
they'd  detail  me  to  help  the  ambulance  corps  carry  off 
the  dead  and  the  wounded,  there  was  a  strange  smell  on 
the  field  that  came  from  the  blood  and  night  damp  and 
burnt  powder.  It  always  smelled  like  a  nigger  to  me! 
It  made  me  sick.  Yes,  Preacher,  God  forgive  me,  I  hate 
'em !  I  can't  help  it  any  more  than  I  can  the  color  of  my 
skin  or  my  hair." 

"  I'll  fix  it  with  Nelse,  then.  You  take  the  first  part 
of  the  night  'till  twelve  o'clock.  I'll  go  down  with  you 
from  the  church  to-night,"  said  the  Preacher,  as  he  shook 
Tom's  hand  and  took  his  leave. 


CHAPTER  III 
DEEPENING  SHADOWS 

ON  the  second  day  after  Mrs.  Gaston  was  stricken 
a  forlorn  little  boy  sat  in  the  kitchen  watching 
Aunt  Eve  get  supper.  He  saw  her  nod  while 
she  worked  the  dough  for  the  biscuits. 

"  Aunt  Eve,  I'm  going  to  sit  up  to-night  and  every 
night  with  my  Mama,  'till  she  gets  well.  I  can't  sleep 
for  hours  and  hours.  I  lie  awake  and  cry  when  I  hear 
her  talking  'till  I  feel  like  I'll  die.  I  must  do  something 
to  help  her." 

"  Laws,  honey,  you'se  too  little.  You  can't  keep 
'wake  'tall.  You  get  so  lonesome  and  skeered  all  by  yer- 
self." 

"  I  don't  care,  I've  told  Tom  to  wake  me  to-night  if 
I'm  asleep  when  he  goes,  and  I'll  sit  up  from  twelve  'till 
two  o'clock  and  then  call  you." 

"  All  right,  Mammy's  darlin'  boy,  but  you  git  tired  en 
can't  stan'  it." 

So  that  night  at  midnight  he  took  his  place  by  the  bed- 
side. His  mother  was  sleeping,  at  first.  He  sat  and 
gazed  with  aching  heart  at  her  still,  white  face.  She 
stirred,  opened  her  eyes,  saw  him,  and  imagined  he  was 
his  father. 

"  Dearie,  I  knew  you  would  come,"  she  murmured. 
"  They  told  me  you  were  dead ;  but  I  knew  better.  What 
a  long,  long  time  you  have  been  away.  How  brown  the 
sun  has  tanned  your  face,  but  it's  just  as  handsome.  I 

30 


Deepening  Shadows  31 

think  handsomer  than  ever.  And  how  like  you  is  little 
Charlie !  I  knew  you  would  be  proud  of  him !  " 

While  she  talked,  her  eyes  had  a  glassy  look,  that 
seemed  to  take  no  note  of  anything  in  the  room. 

The  child  listened  for  ten  minutes,  and  then  the  horror 
of  her  strange  voice,  and  look  and  words  overwhelmed 
him.  He  burst  into  tears  and  threw  his  arms  around  his 
mother's  neck  and  sobbed. 

"  Oh !  Mama  dear,  it's  me,  Charlie,  your  little  boy,  who 
loves  you  so  much.  Please,  don't  talk  that  way.  Please 
look  at  me  like  you  used  to.  There!  Let  me  kiss  your 
eyes  'till  they  are  soft  and  sweet  again !  " 

He  covered  her  eyes  with  kisses. 

The  mother  seemed  dazed  for  a  moment,  held  him  off 
at  arm's  length,  and  then  burst  into  laughter. 

"  Of  course,  you  silly,  I  know  you.  You  must  run  to 
bed  now.  Kiss  me  good  night." 

"  But  you  are  sick,  Mama,  I  am  sitting  up  with  you." 

Again  she  ignored  his  presence.  She  was  back  in  the 
old  days  with  her  Love.  She  was  kissing  her  hand  to  him 
as  he  left  her  for  his  day's  work.  Charlie  looked  at  the 
clock.  It  was  time  to  give  her  the  soothing  drops  the 
doctor  left.  She  took  it,  obedient  as  a  child,  and  went 
on  and  on  with  interminable  dreams  of  the  past,  now 
and  then  uttering  strange  things  for  a  boy's  ears.  But 
so  terrible  was  the  anguish  with  which  he  watched  her, 
the  words  made  little  impression  on  his  mind.  It  seemed 
to  him  some  one  was  strangling  him  to  death,  and  a 
great  stone  was  piled  on  his  little  prostrate  body. 

When  she  grew  quiet,  at  last,  and  dosed,  how  still  the 
house  seemed!  How  loud  the  tick  of  the  clock!  How 
slowly  the  hands  moved !  He  had  never  noticed  this  be- 
fore. He  watched  the  hands  for  five  minutes.  It  seemed 
each  minute  was  an  hour,  and  five  minutes  were  as  long 
as  a  day.  What  strange  noises  in  the  house!  Suppose 


32  The  Leopard's  Spots 

a  ghost  should  walk  into  the  room!  Well,  he  wouldn't 
run  and  leave  his  Mama;  he  made  up  his  mind  to  that. 

Some  nights  there  were  other  sounds  more  ominous. 
The  town  was  crowded  with  strange  negroes,  who  were 
hanging  around  the  camp  of  the  garrison.  One  night  a 
drunken  gang  came  shouting  and  screaming  up  the  alley 
close  beside  the  house,  firing  pistols  and  muskets.  They 
stopped  at  the  house,  and  one  of  them  yelled, 

"  Burn  the  rebel's  house  down !     It's  our  turn  now !  " 

The  terrified  boy  rushed  to  the  kitchen  and  called 
Nelse.  In  a  minute,  Nelse  was  on  the  scene.  There  was 
no  more  trouble  that  night. 

"  De  lazy  black  debbels,"  said  Nelse,  as  he  mopped  the 
perspiration  from  his  brow,  "111  teach  'em  what  freedom 
is." 

The  next  day  when  the  Rev.  John  Durham  had  an  in- 
terview with  the  Commandant  of  the  troops,  he  succeeded 
in  getting  a  consignment  of  corn  for  seed,  and  to  meet 
the  threat  of  starvation  among  some  families  whose  con- 
dition he  reported.  This  important  matter  settled,  he 
said  to  the  officer, 

"  Captain,  we  must  look  to  you  for  protection.  The 
town  is  swarming  with  vagrant  negroes,  bent  on  mis- 
chief. There  are  camp  followers  with  you  organizing 
them  into  some  sort  of  Union  League  meetings,  dealing 
out  arms  and  ammunition  to  them,  and  what  is  worse, 
inflaming  the  worst  passions  against  their  former  mas- 
ters, teaching  them  insolence  and  training  them  for 
crime." 

"  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for  you,  Doctor,  but  I  can't  con- 
trol the  camp  followers  who  are  organising  the  Union 
League.  They  live  a  charmed  life." 

That  night,  as  the  Preacher  walked  home  from  a  visit 
to  a  destitute  family,  he  encountered  a  burly  negro  on 
the  sidewalk,  dressed  in  an  old  suit  of  Federal  uniform, 


Deepening  Shadows  33 

evidently  under  the  influence  of  whiskey.  He  wore  a  belt 
around  his  waist,  in  which  he  had  thrust,  conspicuously, 
an  old  horse  pistol. 

Standing  squarely  across  the  pathway,  he  said  to  the 
Preacher, 

"  Git  outer  de  road,  white  man,  you'se  er  rebel,  Fse  er 
Loyal  Union  Leaguer !  " 

It  was  his  first  experience  with  Negro  insolence  since 
the  emancipation  of  his  slaves.  Quick  as  a  flash,  his 
right  arm  was  raised.  But  he  took  a  second  thought, 
stepped  aside,  and  allowed  the  drunken  fool  to  pass.  He 
went  home  wondering  in  a  hazy  sort  of  way  through  his 
excited  passions  what  ftie  end  of  it  all  would  be.  Gradu- 
ally in  his  mind  for  days  this  towering  figure  of  the  freed 
Negro  had  been  growing  more  and  more  ominous,  until 
its  menace  overshadowed  the  poverty,  the  hunger,  the 
sorrows  and  the  devastation  of  the  South,  throwing  the 
blight  of  its  shadow  over  future  generations,  a  veritable 
Black  Death  for  the  land  and  its  people. 


CHAPTER  IV 
MR.  LINCOLN'S  DREAM 

EVERY  morning  before  the  Preacher  could  finish 
his  breakfast,  callers  were  knocking  at  the  door 
— the  negro,  the  poor  white,  the  widow,  the  or- 
phan, the  wounded,  the  hungry,  an  endless  procession. 

The  spirit  of  the  returned  soldiers  was  all  that  he 
could  ask.  There  was  nowhere  a  slumbering  spark  of 
war.  There  was  not  the  slightest  effort  to  continue  the 
lawless  habits  of  four  years  of  strife.  Everywhere  the 
spirit  of  patience,  self-restraint  and  hope  marked  the  life 
of  the  men  who  had  made  the  most  terrible  soldiery. 
They  were  glad  to  be  done  with  war,  and  have  the  oppor- 
tunity to  rebuild  their  broken  fortunes.  They  were  glad, 
too,  that  the  everlasting  question  of  a  divided  Union  was 
settled  and  settled  forever.  There  was  now  to  be  one 
country  and  one  flag,  and  deep  down  in  their  souls  they 
were  content  with  it. 

The  spectacle  of  this  terrible  army  of  the  Confederacy, 
the  memory  of  whose  battle  cry  yet  thrills  the  world, 
transformed  in  a  month  into  patient  and  hopeful  work- 
men, has  never  been  paralleled  in  history. 

Who  destroyed  this  scene  of  peaceful  rehabilitation? 
Hell  has  no  pit  dark  enough,  and  no  damnation  deep 
enough  for  these  conspirators  when  once  history  has 
fixed  their  guilt. 

The  task  before  the  people  of  the  South  was  one  to  tax 
the  genius  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  as  never  in  its  his- 

34 


Mr.  Lincoln's  Dream  35 

tory,  even  had  every  friendly  aid  possible  been  extended 
by  the  victorious  North.  Four  million  negroes  had  sud- 
denly been  freed,  and  the  foundations  of  economic  order 
destroyed.  Five  billions  of  dollars  worth  of  property 
were  wiped  out  of  existence,  banks  closed,  every  dollar 
of  money  worthless  paper,  the  country  plundered  by  vic- 
torious armies,  its  cities,  mills  and  homes  burned,  and  the 
flower  of  its  manhood  buried  in  nameless  trenches,  or 
worse  still,  flung  upon  the  charity  of  poverty,  maimed 
wrecks.  The  task  of  organising  this  wrecked  society 
and  marshalling  into  efficient  citizenship  this  host  of 
ignorant  negroes,  and  yet  to  preserve  the  civilisation  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  the  priceless  heritage  of  two 
thousand  years  of  struggle,  was  one  to  appal  the  wisdom 
of  ages.  Honestly  and  earnestly  the  white  people  of  the 
South  set  about  this  work,  and  accepted  the  Thirteenth 
amendment  to  the  Constitution  abolishing  slavery  with- 
out a  protesting  vote. 

The  President  issued  his  proclamation  announcing  the 
method  of  restoring  the  Union  as  it  had  been  handed  to 
him  from  the  martyred  Lincoln,  and  endorsed  unani- 
mously by  Lincoln's  Cabinet.  This  plan  was  simple, 
broad  and  statesmanlike,  and  its  spirit  breathed  Frater- 
nity and  Union  with  malice  toward  none  and  charity 
toward  all.  It  declared  what  Lincoln  had  always  taught, 
that  the  Union  was  indestructible,  that  the  rebellious 
states  had  now  only  to  repudiate  Secession,  abolish  slav- 
ery, and  resume  their  positions  in  the  Union,  to  preserve 
which  so  many  lives  had  been  sacrificed. 

The  people  of  North  Carolina  accepted  this  plan  in 
good  faith.  They  elected  a  Legislature  composed  of  the 
noblest  men  of  the  state,  and  chose  an  old  Union  man, 
Andrew  Macon,  Governor.  Against  Macon  was  pitted 
the  man  who  was  now  the  President  and  organiser  of  a 
federation  of  secret  oath-bound  societies,  of  which  the 


36  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Union  League,  destined  to  play  so  tragic  a  part  in  the 
drama  about  to  follow  was  the  type.  This  man,  Amos 
Hogg,  was  a  writer  of  brilliant  and  forceful  style.  Be- 
fore the  war,  a  virulent  Secessionist  leader,  he  had  justified 
and  upheld  slavery,  and  had  written  a  volume  of  poems 
dedicated  to  John  C.  Calhoun.  He  had  led  the  move- 
ment for  Secession  in  the  Convention  which  passed  the 
ordinance.  But  when  he  saw  his  ship  was  sinking,  he 
turned  his  back  upon  the  "  errors  "  of  the  past,  professed 
the  most  loyal  Union  sentiments,  wormed  himself  into 
the  confidence  of  the  Federal  Government,  and  actually 
succeeded  in  securing  the  position  of  Provisional  Gover- 
nor of  the  state!  He  loudly  professed  his  loyalty,  and 
with  fury  and  malice  demanded  that  Vance,  the  great 
war  Governor,  his  predecessor,  who,  as  a  Union  man  had 
opposed  Secession,  should  now  be  hanged,  and  with  him 
his  own  former  associates  in  the  Secession  Convention, 
whom  he  had  misled  with  his  brilliant  pen. 

But  the  people  had  a  long  memory.  They  saw  through 
this  hollow  pretense,  grieved  for  their  great  leader,  who 
was  now  locked  in  a  prison  cell  in  Washington,  and 
voted  for  Andrew  Macon. 

In  the  bitterness  of  defeat,  Amos  Hogg  sharpened  his 
wits  and  his  pen,  and  began  his  schemes  of  revengeful 
ambition. 

The  fires  of  passion  burned  now  in  the  hearts  of  hosts 
of  cowards,  North  and  South,  who  had  not  met  their 
foe  in  battle.  Their  day  had  come.  The  times  were 
ripe  for  the  Apostles  of  Revenge  and  their  breed  of  states- 
men. 

The  Preacher  threw  the  full  weight  of  his  character 
and  influence  to  defeat  Hogg  and  he  succeeded  in  carry- 
ing the  county  for  Macon  by  an  overwhelming  majority. 
At  the  election  only  the  men  who  had  voted  under  the  old 
regime  were  allowed  to  vote.  The  Preacher  had  not  ap- 


Mr.  Lincoln's  Dream  37 

peared  on  the  hustings  as  a  speaker,  but  as  an  organizer 
and  leader  of  opinion  he  was  easily  the  most  powerful  man 
in  the  county,  and  one  of  the  most  powerful  in  the 
state. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  CHURCH 

IN  the  village  of  Hambright  the  church  was  the  centre 
of  gravity  of  the  life  of  the  people.  There  were  but 
two  churches,  the  Baptist  and  the  Methodist.  The 
Episcopalians  had  a  building,  but  it  was  built  by 
the  generosity  of  one  of  their  dead  members.  There 
were  four  Presbyterian  families  in  town,  and  they  were 
working  desperately  to  build  a  church.  The  Baptists  had 
really  taken  the  county,  and  the  Methodists  were  their 
only  rivals.  The  Baptists  had  fifteen  flourishing  churches 
in  the  county,  the  Methodists  six.  There  were  no 
others. 

The  meetings  at  the  Baptist  church  in  the  village  of 
Hambright  were  the  most  important  gatherings  in  the 
county.  On  Sunday  mornings  everybody  who  could 
walk,  young  and  old,  saint  and  sinner,  went  to  church, 
and  by  far  the  larger  number  to  the  Baptist  church. 

You  could  tell  by  the  stroke  of  the  bells  that  the 
two  were  rivals.  The  sextons  acquired  a  peculiar 
skill  in  ringing  these  bells  with  a  snap  and  a  jerk  that 
smashed  the  clapper  against  the  side  in  a  stroke  that 
spoke  defiance  to  all  rival  bells,  warning  of  everlasting 
fire  to  all  sinners  that  should  stay  away,  and  due  notice  to 
the  saints  that  even  an  apostle  might  become  a  castaway 
unless  he  made  haste. 

The  men  occupied  one  side  of  the  house,  the  women 
the  other.  Only  very  small  boys  accompanying  their 

38 


The  Old  and  the  New  Church  39 

mothers  were  to  be  seen  on  the  woman's  side,  together 
with  a  few  young  men  who  fearlessly  escorted  thither 
their  sweethearts. 

Before  the  services  began,  between  the  ringing  of  the 
first  and  second  bells,  the  men  gathered  in  groups  in  the 
church  yard  and  discussed  grave  questions  of  politics  and 
weather.  The  services  over  the  men  lingered  in  the 
yard  to  shake  hands  with  neighbours,  praise  or  criticise 
the  sermon,  and  once  more  discuss  great  events.  The 
boys  gathered  in  quiet,  wistful  groups  and  watched  the 
girls  come  slowly  out  of  the  other  door,  and  now  and  then 
a  daring  youngster  summoned  courage  to  ask  to  see  one 
of  them  home. 

The  services  were  of  the  simplest  kind.  The  Singing 
of  the  old  hymns  of  Zion,  the  Reading  of  the  Bible,  the 
Prayer,  the  Collection,  the  Sermon,  the  Benediction. 

The  Preacher  never  touched  on  politics,  no  matter  what 
the  event  under  whose  world  import  his  people  gathered. 
War  was  declared,  and  fought  for  four  terrible  years. 
Lee  surrendered,  the  slaves  were  freed,  and  society  was 
torn  from  the  foundations  of  centuries,  but  you  would 
never  have  known  it  from  the  lips  of  the  Rev.  John  Dur- 
ham in  his  pulpit.  These  things  were  but  passing  events. 
When  he  ascended  the  pulpit  he  was  the  Messenger  of 
Eternity.  He  spoke  of  God,  of  Truth,  of  Righteousness, 
of  Judgment,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day  and  forever. 

Only  in  his  prayers  did  he  come  closer  to  the  inner* 
thoughts  and  perplexities  of  the  daily  life  of  the  people. 
He  was  a  man  of  remarkable  power  in  the  pulpit.  His 
mastery  of  the  Bible  was  profound.  He  could  speak 
pages  of  direct  discourse  in  its  very  language.  To  him 
it  was  a  divine  alphabet,  from  whose  letters  he  could 
compose  the  most  impassioned  message  to  the  individual 
hearer  before  him.  Its  literature,  its  poetic  fire,  the  epic 
sweep  of  the  Old  Testament  record  of  life,  were  in- 


40  The  Leopard's  Spots 

wrought  into  the  very  fibre  of  his  soul.  As  a  preacher 
he  spoke  with  authority.  He  was  narrow  and  dogmatic 
in  his  interpretations  of  the  Bible,  but  his  very  narrow- 
ness and  dogmatism  were  of  his  flesh  and  blood,  ele- 
ments of  his  power.  He  never  stooped  to  controversy. 
He  simply  announced  the  Truth.  The  wise  received  it. 
The  fools  rejected  it  and  were  damned.  That  was  all 
there  was  to  it. 

But  it  was  in  his  public  prayers  that  he  was  at  his  best. 
Here  all  the  wealth  of  tenderness  of  a  great  soul  was  laid 
bare.  In  these  prayers  he  had  the  subtle  genius  that 
could  find  the  way  direct  into  the  hearts  of  the  people 
before  him,  realise  as  his  own  their  sins  and  sorrows, 
their  burdens  and  hopes  and  dreams  and  fears,  and  then, 
when  he  had  made  them  his  own,  he  could  give  them 
the  wings  of  deathless  words  and  carry  them  up  to  the 
heart  of  God.  He  prayed  in  a  low  soft  tone  of  voice ;  it 
was  like  an  honest  earnest  child  pleading  with  his  father. 
What  a  hush  fell  on  the  people  when  these  prayers  began ! 
With  what  breathless  suspense  every  earnest  soul  followed 
him! 

Before  and  during  the  war,  the  gallery  of  this  church, 
which  was  built  and  reserved  for  the  negroes,  was  always 
crowded  with  dusky  listeners  that  hung  spellbound  on 
his  words.  'Now  there  were  only  a  few,  perhaps  a  dozen, 
and  they  were  growing  fewer.  Some  new  and  mysterious 
power  was  at  work  among  the  negroes,  sowing  the  seeds 
of  distrust  and  suspicion.  He  wondered  what  it  could  be. 
He  had  always  loved  to  preach  to  these  simple  hearted 
children  of  nature,  and  watch  the  flash  of  resistless  emo: 
tion  sweep  their  dark  faces.  He  had  baptised  over 
five  hundred  of  them  into  the  fellowship  of  the  churches 
in  the  village  and  the  county  during  the  ten  years  of  his 
ministry. 

He  determined  to  find  out  the  cause  of  this  desertion 


The  Old  and  the  New  Church  41 

of  his  church  by  the  negroes  to  whom  he  had  ministered 
so  many  years. 

At  the  close  of  a  Sunday  morning's  service,  Nelse  was 
slowly  descending  the  gallery  stairs  leading  Charlie 
Gaston  by  the  hand,  after  the  church  had  been  nearly 
emptied  of  the  white  people.  The  Preacher  stopped  him 
near  the  door. 

"How's  your  Mistress,  'Nelse?" 

"  She's  gettin'  better  all  de  time  now  praise  de  Lawd. 
Eve  she  stay  wid  er  dis  mornin',  while  I  fetch  dis  boy  ter 
church.  He  des  so  sot  on  goin'." 

"  Where  are  all  the  other  folks  who  used  to  fill  that 
gallery,  Nelse?" 

"  You  doan  tell  me,  you  aint  heard  about  dem  ?  "  he 
answered  with  a  grin. 

"  Well,  I  haven't  heard,  and  I  want  to  hear." 

"  De  laws-a-massy,  dey  done  got  er  church  er  dey 
own !  Dey  has  meetin'  now  in  de  school  house  dat 
Yankee  'oman  built.  De  teachers  tell  'em  ef  dey  aint 
good  ernuf  ter  set  wid  de  white  folks  in  dere  chu'ch, 
dey  got  ter  hole  up  dey  haids,  and  not  'low  nobody  ter 
push  em  up  in  er  nigger  gallery.  So  dey's  got  ole  Uncle 
Josh  Miller  to  preach  fur  'em.  He  'low  he  got  er  call, 
en  he  stan'  up  dar  en  holler  fur  'em  bout  er  hour  ev'ry 
Sunday  mawnin'  en  night.  En  sech  whoopin',  en  yellin', 
en  bawlin'!  Yer  can  hear  'em  er  mile.  Dey  tries  ter 
git  me  ter  go.  I  tell  'em,  Marse  John  Durham's  preach- 
in's  good  ernuf  fur  me,  gall'ry  er  no  gall'ry.  I  tell  'em 
dat  I  spec  er  gall'ry  nigher  heaven  den  de  lower  flo' 
enyhow — en  fuddermo',  dat  when  I  goes  ter  church,  I 
wants  ter  hear  sumfin'  mo'  dan  er  ole  fool  nigger  er 
bawlin'.  I  can  holler  myself.  En  dey  low  I  gwine  back 
on  my  colour.  En  den  I  tell  'em  I  spec  I  aint  so  proud 
dat  I  can't  larn  fum  white  folks.  En  dey  say  dey  gwine 
ter  lay  fur  me  yit." 


4*  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  this,"  said  the  Preacher  thought- 
fully. 

"  Yassir,  hits  des  lak  I  tell  yer.  I  spec  dey  gone  fur 
good.  Niggers  aint  got  no  sense  nohow.  I  des  wish 
I  own  'em  erbout  er  week !  Dey  gitten  madder'n  madder 
et  me  all  de  time  case  I  stay  at  de  ole  place  en  wuk  fer 
my  po'  sick  Mistus.  Dey  sen*  er  Kermittee  ter  see  me 
mos'  ev'ry  day  ter  'splain  ter  me  I'se  free.  De  las'  time 
dey  come  I  lam  one  on  de  haid  wid  er  stick  er  wood  erfo 
dey  leave  me  lone." 

"  You  must  be  careful,  Nelse." 

"  Yassir,  I  nebber  hurt  'im.  Des  sorter  crack  his  skull 
er  little  ter  show  'im  what  I  gwine  do  wid  'im  nex'  time 
dey  come  pesterin'  me." 

"  Have  they  been  back  to  see  you  since  ?  " 

"  Dat  dey  aint.  But  dey  sont  me  word  dey  gwine 
git  de  Freeman's  Euro  atter  me.  En  I  sont  'em  back 
word  ter  sen  Mr.  Euro  right  on  en  I  land  'im  in  de 
middle  er  a  spell  er  sickness,  des  es  sho  es  de  Lawd 
gimme  strenk." 

"  You  can't  resist  the  Freedman's  Bureau,  Nelse." 

"  What  dat  Euro  got  ter  do  wid  me,  Marse  John  ?  " 

"  They've  got  everything  to  do  with  you,  my  boy. 
They  have  absolute  power  over  all  questions  between  the 
Negro  and  the  white  man.  They  can  prohibit  you  from 
working  for  a  white  person  without  their  consent,  and 
they  can  fix  your  wages  and  make  your  contracts." 

"  Well,  dey  better  lemme  erlone,  or  dere'll  be  trouble 
in  dis  town,  sho's  my  name's  Nelse." 

"  Don't  you  resist  their  officer.  Come  to  me  if  you 
get  into  trouble  with  them,"  was  the  Preacher's  parting 
injunction. 

Nelse  made  his  way  out  leading  Charlie  by  the  hand, 
and  bowing  his  giant  form  in  a  quaint  deferential  way 
to  the  white  people  he  knew.  He  seemed  proud  of  his 


Tht  Old  and  the  New  Church  43 

association  in  the  church  with  the  whites,  and  the  posi- 
tion of  inferiority  assigned  him  hi  no  sense  disturbed 
his  pride.  He  was  muttering  to  himself  as  he  walked 
slowly  along  looking  down  at  the  ground  thoughtfully. 
There  was  infinite  scorn  and  defiance  in  his  voice. 

"  Bu-ro !    Bu-ro !    Des  let  'em  fool  wid  me !    Ill  make 
'em  see  de  seben  stars  in  de  middle  er  de  day ! " 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  PREACHER  AND  THE  WOMAN  OF  BOSTON 

THE  next  day  the  Preacher  had  a  call  from  Miss 
Susan  Walker  of  Boston,  whose  liberality  had 
built  the  new  Negro  school  house  and  whose  life 
and  fortune  was  devoted  to  the  education  and  elevation  of 
the  Negro  race.  She  had  been  in  the  village  often  within 
the  year,  running  up  from  Independence  where  she  was 
building  and  endowing  a  magnificent  classical  college  for 
negroes.  He  had  often  heard  of  her,  but  as  she  stopped 
with  negroes  when  on  her  visits  he  had  never  met  her. 
He  was  especially  interested  in  her  after  hearing  inci- 
dentally that  she  was  a  member  of  a  Baptist  church  in 
Hoslon. 

On  entering  the  parlour  the  Preacher  greeted  his 
visitor  with  the  deference  the  typical  Southern  man  in- 
stinctively pays  to  woman. 

"  I  am  pleased  to  meet  you,  Madam,"  he  said  with 
a  rraeriiil  huw  and  kindly  smile,  as  he  led  her  to  the 

most  comfortable  seat  he  could  find. 
She  looked  him  squarely  in  the  face  for  a  moment  as 

Ihoiii'li  sm-prir.eil  ;md  smilingly  replied. 

11 1  believe  you  Southern  men  are  all  alike,  woman 
flatterers.  You  have  a  way  of  making  every  woman  be- 
lieve you  think  her  a  queen.  It  pleases  me,  I  can't  help 
confessing  it,  though  I  sometimes  despise  myself  for  it. 
Hui  I  am  not  going  to  give  you  an  opportunity  to  feed 
my  vanity  this  morning,  I've  come  for  a  plain  face  to 

44 


r.  : 


^nei 
:ier 


-  .      :- 





::_.:. 


46  The  Leopard's  Spots 

a  divine  mission  this  morning.  I  mean  to  establish  a 
high  school  in  this  village  for  the  negroes,  and  to  build 
a  Baptist  church  for  them.  I  learn  from  them  that 
they  have  great  faith  in  you.  Many  of  them  desire  your 
approval  and  co-operation.  Will  you  help  me  ?  " 

"  To  be  perfectly  frank,  I  will  not.  You  ask  me  for 
plain  English.  I  will  give  it  to  you.  Your  presence 
in  this  village  as  a  missionary  to  the  heathen  is  an  insult 
to  our  intelligence  and  Christian  manhood.  You  come 
at  this  late  day  a  missionary  among  the  heathen,  the 
heathen  whose  heart  and  brain  created  this  Republic  with 
civil  and  religious  liberty  for  its  foundations,  a  mission- 
ary among  the  heathen  who  gave  the  world  Washington, 
whose  giant  personality  three  times  saved  the  cause  of 
American  Liberty  from  ruin  when  his  army  had  melted 
away.  You  are  a  missionary  among  the  children  of  Wash- 
ington, Jefferson,  Monroe,  Madison,  Jackson,  Clay  and 
Calhoun!  Madam,  I  have  baptised  into  the  fellowship 
of  the  church  of  Christ  in  this  county  more  negroes  than 
you  ever  saw  in  all  your  life  before  you  left  Boston. 

"  At  the  close  of  the  war  there  were  thousands  of 
negro  members  of  white  Baptist  churches  in  the  state. 
Your  mission  is  not  to  proclaim  the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Your  mission  is  to  teach  crack-brained  theories 
of  social  and  political  equality  to  four  millions  of  igno- 
rant negroes,  some  of  whom  are  but  fifty  years  removed 
from  the  savagery  of  African  jungles.  Your  work  is  to 
separate  and  alienate  the  negroes  from  their  former 
masters  who  can  be  their  only  real  friends  and  guar- 
dians. Your  work  is  to  sow  the  dragon's  teeth  of  an 
impossible  social  order  that  will  bring  forth  its  harvest 
of  blood  for  our  children." 

He  paused  a  moment,  and,  suddenly  facing  her  con- 
tinued, "  I  should  like  to  help  the  cause  you  have  at  heart 
and  the  most  effective  service  I  could  render  it  now  would 


The  Preacher  and  the  Woman  of  Boston     47 

be  to  box  you  up  in  a  glass  cage,  such  as  are  used  for 
rattlesnakes,  and  ship  you  back  to  Boston." 

"  Indeed !  I  suppose  then  it  is  still  a  crime  in  the 
South  to  teach  the  Negro  ?  "  she  asked  this  in  little  gasps 
of  fury,  her  eyes  flashing  defiance  and  her  two  rows  of 
white  teeth  uncovering  by  the  rising  of  her  pugnacious 
nose." 

"  For  you,  yes.    It  is  always  a  crime  to  teach  a  lie." 
"  Thank  you.    Your  frankness  is  all  one  could  wish !  " 
"  Pardon  my  apparent  rudeness.    You  not  only  invited, 
you  demanded  it.    While  about  it,  let  me  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it.    I  do  you  personally  the  honour  to  acknowl- 
edge that  you  are  honest  and  in  dead  earnest,  and  that 
you  mean  well.    You  are  simply  a  fanatic." 

"  Allow  me  again  to  thank  you  for  your  candour !  " 
"  Don't  mention  it,  Madam.  You  will  be  canonised  in 
due  time.  In  the  meantime  let  us  understand  one  an- 
other. Our  lives  are  now  very  far  apart,  though  we 
read  the  same  Bible,  worship  the  same  God  and  hold  the 
same  great  faith.  In  the  settlement  of  this  Negro  question 
you  are  an  insolent  interloper.  You're  worse,  you  are  a 
wilful  spoiled  child  of  rich  and  powerful  parents  playing 
with  matches  in  a  powder  mill.  I  not  only  will  not  help 
you,  I  would,  if  I  had  the  power  seize  you,  and  remove 
you  to  a  place  of  safety.  But  I  cannot  oppose  you.  You 
are  protected  in  your  play  by  a  million  bayonets  and  back 
of  these  bayonets  are  banked  the  fires  of  passion  in  the 
North  ready  to  burst  into  flame  in  a  moment.  The  only 
thing  I  can  do  is  to  ignore  your  existence.  You  under- 
stand my  position." 

"  Certainly,  Doctor,"  she  replied  good  naturedly. 
She  had  recovered  from  the  rush  of  her  anger  now  and 
was  herself  again.     A  curious  smile  played  round  her 
lips  as  she  quietly  added: 

"  I  must  really  thank  you  for  your  candour.  You  have 


48  The  Leopard's  Spots 

helped  me  immensely.  I  understand  the  situation  now 
perfectly.  I  shall  go  forward  cheerfully  in  my  work  and 
never  bother  my  brain  again  about  you,  or  your  people, 
or  your  point  of  view.  You  have  aroused  all  the  fighting 
blood  in  me.  I  feel  toned  up  and  ready  for  a  life  strug- 
gle. I  assure  you  I  shall  cherish  no  ill  feeling  toward  you. 
I  am  only  sorry  to  see  a  man  of  your  powers  so  blinded  by 
prejudice.  I  will  simply  ignore  you." 

"  Then,  Madam,  it  is  quite  clear  we  agree  upon  estab- 
lishing and  maintaining  a  great  mutual  ignorance.  Let 
us  hope,  paradoxical  as  it  may  seem,  that  it  may  be  for 
the  enlightenment  of  future  generations !  " 

She  arose  to  go,  smiling  at  his  last  speech. 

"  Before  we  part,  perhaps  never  to  meet  again,  let  me 
ask  you  one  question,"  said  the  Preacher  still  looking 
thoughtfully  at  her. 

"  Certainly,  as  many  as  you  like." 

"  Why  is  it  that  you  good  people  of  the  North  are 
spending  your  millions  here  now  to  help  only  the 
negroes,  who  feel  least  of  all  the  sufferings  of  this  war? 
The  poor  white  people  of  the  South  are  your  own 
flesh  and  blood.  These  Scotch  Covenanters  are  of  the 
same  Puritan  stock,  these  German,  Huguenot  and 
English  people  are  all  your  kinsmen,  who  stood  at  the 
stake  with  your  fathers  in  the  old  world.  They  are, 
many  of  them,  homeless,  without  clothes,  sick  and  hungry 
and  broken  hearted.  But  one  in  ten  of  them  ever  owned 
a  slave.  They  had  to  fight  this  war  because  your  armies 
invaded  their  soil.  But  for  their  sorrows,  sufferings  and 
burdens  you  have  no  ear  to  hear  and  no  heart  to  pity. 
This  is  a  strange  thing  to  me." 

"  The  white  people  of  the  South  can  take  care  of  them- 
selves. If  they  suffer,  it  is  God's  just  punishment  for 
their  sins  in  owning  slaves  and  fighting  against  the  flag. 
Do  I  make  myself  clear?  "  she  snapped. 


,1 


:-: 


fckso?" 

Yes.I«. 


1    I'--.  . 


~      .-_•*. 

-±er 


--' 


50  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I  meant  no  offense  by  the  question.  I  love  cats  too. 
But  I  wondered  if  you  were  collecting  negroes  only  now, 
or,  whether  you  were  adding  other  specimens  to  your 
menagerie  for  experimental  purposes." 

She  bit  her  lips,  and  in  spite  of  her  efforts  to  restrain 
her  anger,  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes  as  she  turned  toward 
the  Preacher  whose  face  now  looked  calmly  down  upon 
her  with  ill-concealed  pride. 

"  Oh !  the  insolence  of  you  Southern  people  toward 
those  who  dare  to  differ  with  you  about  the  Negro !  " 
she  cried  with  rage. 

"  I  confess  it  humbly  as  a  Christian,  it  is  true.  My 
scorn  for  these  maudlin  ideas  is  so  deep  that  words  have 
no  power  to  convey  it.  But  come,"  said  the  Preacher 
in  the  kindliest  tone.  "  Enough  of  this.  I  am  pained  to 
see  tears  in  your  eyes.  Pardon  my  thoughtlessness.  Let 
us  forget  now  for  a  little  while  that  you  are  an  idea,  and 
remember  only  that  you  are  a  charming  Boston  woman 
of  the  household  of  our  own  faith.  Let  me  call  Mrs. 
Durham,  and  have  you  know  her  and  discuss  with  her 
the  thousand  and  one  things  dear  to  all  women's  hearts." 

"  No,  I  thank  you !  I  feel  a  little  sore  and  bruised,  and 
social  amenities  can  have  no  meaning  for  those  whose 
souls  are  on  fire  with  such  antagonistic  ideas  as  yours 
and  mine.  If  Mrs.  Durham  can  give  me  any  sympathy 
in  my  work  I'll  be  delighted  to  see  her,  otherwise  I 
must  go." 

The  Preacher  laughed  aloud. 

"  Then  let  me  beg  of  you,  never  meet  Mrs.  Durham. 
If  you  do,  the  war  will  break  out  again.  I  don't  wish 
to  figure  in  a  case  of  assault  and  battery.  Mrs.  Durham 
was  the  owner  of  fifty  slaves.  She  represents  the  bluest 
of  the  blue  blood  of  the  slave-holding  aristocracy  of  the 
South.  She  has  never  surrendered  and  she  never  will. 
Wars,  surrenders,  constitutional  amendments  and  such 


The  Preacher  and  the  Woman  of  Boston      51 

little  things  make  no  impression  on  her  mind  whatever. 
If  you  think  I  am  difficult,  you  had  better  not  puzzle 
your  brain  over  her.  I  am  a  mildly  constructive  man  of 
progress.  She  is  a  Conservative." 

"  Then  we  will  say  good-bye,"  said  Miss  Walker,  ex- 
tending her  small  plump  hand  in  friendly  parting.  "  I 
accept  your  challenge  which  this  interview  implies.  I 
will  succeed  if  God  lives,"  and  she  set  her  lips  with  a 
snap  that  spoke  volumes. 

"  And  I  will  watch  you  from  afar  with  sorrow  and 
fear  and  trembling,"  responded  the  Preacher. 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  HEART  OF  A  CHILD 

MRS.  GASTON'S  recovery  from  the  brain  fever 
which  followed  her  prostration  was  slow  and 
painful.     For  days  she  would  be  quite  herself 
as  she  would  sit  up  in  bed  and  smile  at  the  wistful  face 
of  the  boy  who  sat  tenderly  gazing  into  her  eyes,  or  with 
swift  feet  was  running  to  do  her  slightest  wish. 

Then  days  of  relapse  would  follow  when  the  child's 
heart  would  ache  and  ache  with  a  dumb  sense  of  despair 
as  he  listened  to  her  incoherent  talk,  and  heard  her  mean- 
ingless laughter.  When  at  length  he  could  endure  it 
no  longer,  he  would  call  Aunt  Eve,  run  from  the  house, 
as  fast  as  his  little  legs  could  carry  him,  and  in  the  woods 
lie  down  in  the  shadows  and  cry  for  hours. 

"  I  wonder  if  God  is  dead  ?  "  he  said  one  day  as  he 
lay  and  gazed  at  the  clouds  sweeping  past  the  openings 
in  the  green  foliage  above. 

"  I  pray  every  day  and  every  night,  but  she  don't  get 
well.  Why  does  He  leave  her  like  that,  when  she's 
so  good !  "  and  then  his  voice  choked  into  sobs,  and  he 
buried  his  face  in  the  leaves. 

He  was  suddenly  roused  by  the  voice  of  Nelse  who 
stood  looking  down  on  his  forlorn  figure  with  tender- 
ness. 

"  What  you  doin'  out  in  dese  woods,  honey,  by  yo' 
se'f?" 

"  Nothin',  Nelse." 

52 


The  Heart  of  a  Child  J3 

"  I  knows.    You'se  er  crying  'bout  yo  Ma." 

The  boy  nodded  without  looking  up. 

"  Doan  do  dat  way,  honey.  You'se  too  little  ter  cry 
lak  dat.  Yer  Ma's  gittin'  better  ev'ry  day,  de  doctor  done 
tole  me  so." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Nelse  ?  "  There  was  an  eagerness 
and  yearning  in  the  child's  voice,  that  would  have  moved 
the  heart  of  a  stone. 

"  Cose  I  does.  She  be  strong  en  well  in  little  while 
when  cole  wedder  comes.  Fros'  '11  soon  be  here.  I  see 
whar  er  ole  rabbit  been  er  eatin'  on  my  turnip  tops. 
Dat's  er  sho  sign.  I  gwine  make  you  er  rabbit  box  ter- 
morrer  ter  ketch  dat  rabbit." 

"Will  you,  Nelse?" 

"  Sho's  you  bawn.  Now  des  lemme  pick  you  er  chune 
on  dis  banjer  'fo  I  goes  ter  my  wuk." 

Of  all  the  music  he  had  ever  heard,  the  boy  thought 
Nelse's  banjo  was  the  sweetest.  He  accompanied  the 
music  in  a  deep  bass  voice  which  he  kept  soft  and  sooth- 
ing. The  boy  sat  entranced.  With  wide  open  eyes  and 
half  parted  lips  he  dreamed  his  mother  was  well,  and 
then  that  he  had  grown  to  be  a  man,  a  great  man,  rich 
and  powerful.  Now  he  was  the  Governor  of  the  state, 
living  in  the  Governor's  palace,  and  his  mother  was  pre- 
siding at  a  banquet  in  his  honour.  He  was  bending 
proudly  over  her  and  whispering  to  her  that  she  was  the 
most  beautiful  mother  in  the  world.  And  he  could  hear 
her  say  with  a  smile, 

"You  dear  boy!" 

Suddenly  the  banjo  stopped,  and  Nelse  railed  with 
mock  severity,  "  Now  look  at  'im  er  cryin'  ergin,  en  me 
er  pickin'  de  eens  er  my  fingers  off  fur  'im ! " 

"  No,  I  aint  cryin'.  I  am  just  listenin'  to  the  music. 
Nelse,  you're  the  greatest  banjo  player  in  the  world!" 

"  Na,  honey,  hits  de  banjer.    Dats  de  Jo-bloin'est  ban- 


54  The  Leopard's  Spots 

jer !  En  des  ter  t'ink — er  Yankee  gin  'er  to  me  in  de  wah ! 
Dat  wuz  the  fus'  Yankee  I  ebber  seed  hab  sense  ernuf 
tcr  own  er  ban  jer.  I  kinder  hate  ter  fight  dem  Yankees 
atter  dat." 

"  But  Nelse,  if  you  were  fighting  with  our  men  how 
did  you  get  close  to  any  Yankees  ?  " 

"  Lawd  child,  we's.allers  slippin'  out  twixt  de  lines 
atter  night  er  carryin'  on  wid  dem  Yankees.  We  trade 
'em  terbaccer  fur  coffee  en  sugar,  en  play  cyards,  en 
talk  twell  mos'  day  sometime.  I  slip  out  fust  in  er  patch 
er  woods  twix'  de  lines,  en  make  my  ban  jer  talk.  En  den 
yere  dey  cornel  De  Yankees  fum  one  way  en  our  boys 
de  yudder.  I  make  out  lak  I  doan  see  'em  tall,  des  playin' 
ter  myself.  Den  I  make  dat  ban  jer  moan  en  cry  en  talk 
about  de  folks  way  down  in  Dixie.  De  boys  creep  up 
closer  en  closer  twell  dey  right  at  my  elbow  en  I  see  'em 
cryin1,  some  un  'em — den  I  gin  'er  a  juk!  en  way  she  go 
pluckety  plunck !  en  dey  gin  ter  dance  and  laugh !  Some- 
time dey  cuss  me  lak  dey  mad  en  lam  me  on  de  back. 
When  dey  hit  me  hard  den  I  know  dey  ready  ter  gimme 
all  dey  got." 

"  But  how  did  you  get  this  banjo,  Nelse? " 

"  Yankee  gin  'er  ter  me  one  night  ter^try  'er,  en  when 
he  hear  me  des  fairly  pull  de  insides  outen  'er,  he  'low 
dat  hit  'ed  be  er  sin  ter  ebber  sep'rate  us.  Say  he  nebber 
know  what  'uz  in  er  ban  jer." 

'Nelse  rose  to  go. 

"  Now,  honey,  doan  you  cry  no  mo,  en  I  make  you 
dat  rabbit  box  sho,  en  erlong  'bout  Chris'mas  I  gwine 
larn  you  how  ter  shoot." 

"Will  you  let  me  hold  the  gun?"  the  boy  eagerly 
tlked. 

"  I  del  sh6  you  how  ter  poke  yo  gun  In  de  crack  er 
de  fence  en  whisper  ter  de  trigger*  Den  look  out  birds 
tn  rabbit*  I " 


The  Hem  of*  Orild 


55 


boy's  sooL    To  bira  die  days  were 


I  : 


bea 


56  The  Leopard's  Spots 

going  to  live  in  it  with  me.  and  I  am  to  take  care  of 
you  as  long  as  you  live." 

"  I  expect  you  will  marry  some  pretty  girl,  and  almost 
forget  your  old  Mama  who  will  be  getting  grey." 

"  But  I'll  never  love  anybody  like  I  love  you,  Mama 
dear!" 

His  little  arms  slipped  around  her  neck,  held  her  close 
for  a  moment,  and  then  he  tenderly  kissed  her. 

After  supper  he  sought  Nelse. 

"  Nelse,  we  must  work  out  the  flowers  in  the  lawn. 
Mama  wants  to  see  them.  It  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep 
her  from  going  out  there  to-day." 

"  Lawd  chile,  hit'll  take  two  niggers  er  week  ter  clean 
out  dat  lawn.  Hits  gone  fur  dis  year.  Yer  Ma'll  know 
dat,  honey." 

The  next  morning  after  breakfast  the  boy  found  a 
hoe,  and  in  the  piercing  sun  began  manfully  to  work  at 
those  flowers.  He  had  worked  perhaps,  a  half  hour.  His 
face  was  red  with  heat  and  wet  with  sweat.  He  was 
tired  already  and  seemed  to  make  no  impression  on  the 
wilderness  of  weeds  and  grass. 

Suddenly  he  looked  up  and  saw  his  mother  smiling 
at  him. 

"  Come  here,  Charlie !  "  she  called. 

He  dropped  his  hoe  and  hurried  to  her  side.  She 
caught  him  in  her  arms  and  kissed  the  sweat  drops  from 
his  eyes  and  mouth. 

"  You  are  the  sweetest  boy  in  the  world !  " 

What  music  to  his  soul  these  words  to  the  last  day  of 
his  life! 

"  I  was  afraid  when  you  saw  all  these  weeds  you  would 
cry  about  your  flowers.  Mama." 

"  It  does  hurt  me,  dear,  to  see  them,  but  it's  worth  all 
their  loss  to  see  you  out  there  in  the  broiling  sun  working 
§0  hard  to  please  me,  I've  seen  the  most  beautiful  flower 


The  Heart  of  a  Quid  57 

this  morning  that  ever  blossomed  on  my  lawn!— and  its 
perfume  will  make  sweet  my  whole  life.    I  am  going  to 
be  brave  and  live  for  you  now." 
And  she  kissed  him  fondly  again. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
AN  EXPERIMENT  IN  MATRIMONY 

NELSE  was  informed  by  the  Agent  of  the  Freed- 
man's  Bureau  when  summoned  before  that  tri- 
bunal that  he  must  pay  a  fee  of  one  dollar  for  a 
marriage  license  and  be  married  over  again. 

"  What's  dat  ?  Dis  yer  war  bust  up  me  en  Eve's  mar- 
ryin'?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Agent.  "  You  must  be  legally  mar- 
ried." 

Nelse  chucked  on  a  brilliant  scheme  that  flashed 
through  his  mind. 

"  Den  I  see  you  ergin  'bout  dat,"  he  said  as  he  hastily 
took  his  leave. 

He  made  his  way  homeward  revolving  his  bril- 
liant scheme.  "  But  won't  I  fetch  dat  nigger  Eve  down 
er  peg  er  two !  I  gwine  ter  make  her  t'ink  I  won'  marry 
her  nohow.  I  make  'er  ax  my  pardon  fur  all  dem  little 
disergreements.  She  got  ter  talk  mighty  putty  now  sho 
nuf !  "  And  he  smiled  over  his  coming  triumph. 

It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  he  reached 
his  cabin  door  on  the  lot  back  of  Mrs.  Gaston's  home. 
Eve  was  busy  mending  some  clothes  for  their  little  boy 
now  nearly  five  years  old. 

"  Good  evenin',  Miss  Eve !  " 

Eve  looked  up  at  him  with  a  sudden  flash  of  her  eye. 

"  What  de  matter  wid  you  nigger?  " 

"  Nuttin'  tall.  Des  drapped  in  lak  ter  pass  de  time 

58 


.-_  : 


=  : 


6o  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Yas,  I  niin's  dat  sho !  "  said  Eve  with  evident  satis- 
faction. 

"  Doan  you  wish  you  nebber  done  dat?  " 

"You  black  debbil!" 

"  Dat's  hit !  I'se  er  bad  nigger,  M'am, — bad  nigger  fo' 
de  war.  En  I'se  gittin'  wuss  en  wuss,"  Nelse  chuckled. 

She  looked  at  him  with  gathering  rage  and  con- 
tempt. 

"  En  den  fudder  mo,  M'am,  I  doan  lak  de  way  you 
talk  ter  me  sometimes.  Yo  voice  des  kinder  takes  de 
skin  off  same's  er  file.  I  laks  ter  -hear  er  'oman's  voice 
lak  my  Missy's,  des  es  sof  es  wool.  Sometime  one  word 
from  her  keep  me  warm  all  winter.  De  way  you  talk 
sometime  make  me  cole  in  de  summer  time." 

Nelse  rose  while  Eve  sat  motionless. 

"  I  des  call,  M'am,  ter  drap  er  little  intment  inter  dem 
years  er  yourn,  dat'll  percerlate  froo  you  min',  en  when 
I  calls  ergin  I  hopes  ter  be  welcome  wid  smiles." 

Nelse  bowed  himself  out  the  door  in  grandiloquent 
style. 

All  the  afternoon  he  was  laughing  to  himself  over 
his  triumph,  and  imagining  the  welcome  when  he  re- 
turned that  evening  with  his  marriage  license  and  the 
officer  to  perform  the  ceremony.  At  supper  in  the  kitchen 
he  was  polite  and  formal  in  his  manners  to  Eve.  She 
eyed  him  in  a  contemptuous  sort  of  way  and  never  spoke 
unless  it  was  absolutely  necessary. 

It  was  about  half  past  eight  when  Nelse  arrived  at 
home  with  the  license  duly  issued  and  the  officer  of  the 
Bureau  ready  to  perform  the  ceremony. 

"  Des  wait  er  minute  here  at  de  corner,  sah,  twell  I 
kinder  breaks  de  news  to  'em, "said  Nelse  to  the  officer. 
He  approached  the  cabin  door  and  knocked. 

It  was  shut  and  fastened.    He  got  no  response. 

He  knocked  loudly  again. 


An  Experiment  in  Matrimony  61 

Eve  thrust  her  head  out  the  window. 

"  Who's  dat?" 

"  Hits  me,  M'am,  Mister  Nelson  Gaston,  Irse  call  ter 
see  you." 

"  Den  you  hump  yo'se'f  en  git  away  from  dat  do,  you 
rascal." 

"  De  Lawd,  honey,  Fse  des  been  er  foolin'  you  ter  day. 
I'se  got  dem  licenses  en  de  Euro  man  right  out  dar  now 
ready  ter  marry  us.  You  know  yo  ole  man  nebber  gwine 
back  on  you — I  des  been  er  foolin'." 

"  Den  you  been  er  foolin'  wid  de  wrong  nigger ! " 

"  Lawd,  honey,  doan  keep  de  bridegroom  er  waitinV 

"  Git  er  way  from  dat  do ! " 

"  Glong  chile,  en  quit  yer  projeckinY'  Nelse  was 
using  his  softest  and  most  persuasive  tones  now. 

"G'way  from  dat  do!" 

"  Come  on,  Eve,  de  man  waitin'  out  dar  fur  us ! " 

"  Git  away  I  tells  you  er  I  scald  you  wid  er  kittle  cr 
hot  water!"  9 

Nelse  drew  back  slightly  from  the  door. 

"  But,  honey,  whar  yo  ole  man  gwine  ter  sleep  ?  " 

"  Dey's  straw  in  de  barn,  en  pine  shatters  in  de  dog 
house ! "  she  shouted  slamming  the  window. 

"Eve,  honey!"— 

"  Doan  you  come  honeyin'  me,  Fse  er  spec'able  'ornan 
I  is.  Ef  you  wants  ter  marry  me  you  got  ter  come  cotin' 
me  in  de  day  time  fust,  en  bring  me  candy,  en  ribbins 
en  flowers  and  sich,  en  you  got  ter  talk  purtier'n  you 
ebber  talk  in  all  yo  bora  days.  Lots  er  likely  lookin' 
niggers  come  settin  up  ter  me  while  you  gone  in  dat  wah, 
en  I  keep  studin'  Tx>ut  yon,  you  big  black  rascal.  Now 
you  got  ter  hump  yo'se'f  ef  you  eber  see  de  inside  er 
dis  cabin  ergin." 

Crestfallen  Nelse  returned  to  the  officer. 

"  Wan  sah,  deys  er  kinder  hitch  in  de  perceedias." 


6*  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"What's  the  matter?" 

"  She  low  I  got  ter  come  cotin'  her  fust.  En  I  spec 
I  if/' 

The  officer  laughed  and  returned  to  his  home.  She 
made  Nelse  sleep  in  the  barn  for  three  weeks,  court  her 
an  hour  every  day,  and  bring  her  five  cents  worth  of  red 
stick  candy  and  a  bouquet  of  flowers  as  a  peace  offering 
at  every  visit.  Finally  she  made  him  write  her  a  note  and 
ask  her  to  take  a  ride  with  him.  Nelse  got  Charlie 
to  write  it  for  him,  and  made  his  own  boy  carry  it  to 
his  mother.  After  three  weeks  of  humility  and  attention 
to  her  wishes,  she  gave  her  consent,  and  they  were  duly 
married  again. 


CHAPTER  IX 
A  MASTER  OF  MEN 


f   |   HIE  finfc  Monday  in  October  was  court  dap  at 
-*•        of  r««gAJI  county,  the  peopfe  flocked  to  town. 


—  —    *      *          __  i  -      ^__   ~~    ~        ~          "~    ~  ~  ~  _~i  -  ~    -  -  •-       r  *  *    ~    ~z. 
"fcnnrtv^TTMppfly  IBB  "where  las  DKTOS  and  UTQDJDC 
were  sooo  to  at  CM  judges  bench  and  in  attorney  s 

~~   -  ~  "  ^          "  *     -     _j"      _        "       "~         -_-----——-  -J  "^  t"-.I. 

:i     :_     :      .1:     i  :     :    r  1:;-  .:'.i:  .::-  /.  i  :  •.'.--  :-i  :  .t   ::; 
.    :    .    .    .  *  :    :   '          .  :  _~..i"  i    \.  ::..:.-'-. 

:     g-.r:   :  '.  .."::."-:    ::r  i  r_t       _:•:   rirjrr.t 

_   _  "  1  1     _        -  1  :      '-'.'-  -  ;          "  .  .."-  t  r    I 

^^^  _        -    -  --  ^  -      .—  ^-^^«^     ^          -'-  -  -         --.  "-  -"_-        —  -      "    - 

.7         ;     I  .  t  -r     .::::      _-      .-  --:-  --    ~ 

•   __'^L_    ii   i~~-~.rLr 

A. 
r.  -  -  :  .    — 

to  town  on  the  first  dzj.   The  streets 


: "    "    :    r    i " '.      -     ~-    '-'--. 

:f  :-:-:  L-i-.t'.   T  :-:- 

:f    7: :-..-.-. 

'  .'.    :    t  r."  -.- ".   ::."..:   :    -  I.  ~v 
i  r   I  -IT.  : : 


64  The  Leopard's  Spots 

black  hair,  now  iron  grey.  His  face  was  ruddy  with  the 
glow  of  perfect  health  and  his  full  round  lips  and  the 
twinkle  of  his  eye  showed  him  to  be  a  lover  of  the 
good  things  of  life.  He  wore  a  heavy  moustache 
which  seemed  a  fitting  ballast  for  the  lower  part  of  his 
face  against  the  heavy  projecting  straight  eyebrows  and 
bushy  hair. 

As  he  shook  hands  with  his  old  soldiers  his  face  was 
wreathed  in  smiles,  his  eyes  flashed  with  something  like 
tears  and  he  had  a  pleasant  word  for  all. 

Tom  Camp  was  one  of  the  first  to  spy  the  General  and 
hobble  to  him  as  fast  as  his  peg-leg  would  carry  him. 

"  Howdy,  General,  howdy  do !  Lordy  it's  good  for 
sore  eyes  ter  see  ye ! "  Tom  held  fast  to  his  hand  and 
turning  to  the  crowd  said, 

"  Boys,  here's  the  best  General  that  ever  led  a  brigade, 
and  there  wasn't  a  man  in  it  that  wouldn't  a  died  for  him. 
Now  three  times  three  cheers !  "  And  they  gave  it  with  a 
will. 

"  Ah !  Tom  you're  still  at  your  old  tricks,"  said  the 
General.  "What  are  you  after  now?" 

"  A  speech  General !  " — "  A  speech !  A  speech !  "  the 
crowd  echoed. 

The  General  slapped  Tom  on  the  back  and  said, 

"  What  sort  of  a  job  is  this  you're  putting  up  on  me — 
I'm  no  orator!  But  I'll  just  say  to  you,  boys,  that  this 
old  peg-leg  here  was  the  finest  soldier  that  I  ever  saw 
carry  a  musket  and  the  men  who  stood  beside  him  were 
the  most  patient,  the  most  obedient,  the  bravest  men  that 
ever  charged  a  foe  and  crowned  their  General  with  glory 
while  he  safely  stood  in  the  rear." 

Again  a  cheer  broke  forth.  The  General  was  hurry- 
ing toward  the  court  house,  when  he  was  suddenly  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  negroes.  In  the  front  ranks  were 
a  hundred  of  his  old  slaves  who  had  worked  on  his 


A  Master  of  Men  65 

Campbell  county  plantation.  They  seized  his  hands  and 
laughed  and  cried  and  pleaded  for  recognition  like  a 
crowd  of  children.  Most  of  them  he  knew.  Some  of 
their  faces  he  had  forgotten. 

"  Hi  dar,  Marse  Dan'l,  you  knows  me !  Lordy,  I'se 
your  boy  Joe  dat  used  ter  ketch  yo  hoss  down  at  the 
plantation !  " 

"  Of  course,  Joe !    Of  course." 

"  I  know  Marse  Dan'l  aint  forget  old  Uncle  Rube," 
said  an  aged  negro  pushing  his  way  to  the  front. 

"  That  I  haven't  Reuben!  and  how's  Aunt  Julie  Ann?  '' 

"  She  des  tollable,  Marse  Dan'l.  We'se  bof  un  us  had 
de  plumbago.  How  is  you  all  sence  de  wah  ?  " 

"  Oh !  first  rate,  Reuben.  We  manage  somehow  to  get 
enough  to  eat  and  if  we  do  that  nowadays  we  can't  com- 
plain." 

"  Dats  de  God's  truf,  Marster  sho !  En  now  Marse 
Dan'l,  we  all  wants  you  ter  make  us  er  speech  en  'splain 
erbout  dis  freedom  ter  us.  Dey's  so  many  dese  yere 
Buroers  en  Leaguers  round  here  tellin'  us  niggers  what's 
er  coming',  twell  we  des  doan  know  nuttin'  fur  sho.  " 

"  Yassir  dat's  hit !  You  tell  us  er  speech  Marse  Dan'l !  " 

The  white  men  crowded  up  nearer  and  joined  in  the 
cry.  There  was  no  escape.  In  a  few  moments  the  court 
house  was  filled  with  a  crowd. 

When  he  arose  a  cheer  shook  the  building,  and  strange 
as  it  may  seem  to-day,  it  came  with  almost  equal  en- 
thusiasm from  white  and  black. 

"  I  thank  you,  my  friends,"  said  the  General,  "  for  this 
evidence  of  your  confidence.  I  was  a  Whig  in  politics. 
I  reckon  I  hated  a  Democrat  as  God  hates  sin.  I  was  a 
Union  man  and  fought  Secession.  My  opponents  won. 
My  state  asked  me  to  defend  her  soil.  As  an  obedient 
son  I  gave  my  life  in  loyal  service. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  as  a  Union  man  that  I  am  glad 


66  The  Leopard's  Spots 

this  war  is  over.  I  have  always  felt  as  a  busi- 
ness man,  a  cotton  manufacturer  as  well  as  farmer, 
in  touch  with  the  free  labour  of  the  North  as  well  as  the 
slave  labour  of  the  South,  that  free  labour  was  the  most 
economical  and  efficient.  I  believe  that  terrible  as  the 
loss  of  four  billions  of  dollars  in  slaves  will  be  to  the 
South,  if  the  South  is  only  let  alone  by  the  politicians 
and  allowed  to  develop  her  resources,  she  will  become 
what  God  meant  her  to  be,  the  garden  of  the  world.  I 
say  it  calmly  and  deliberately,  I  thank  God  that  slavery 
is  a  thing  of  the  past." 

A  whirlwind  of  applause  arose  from  the  negroes. 
Uncle  Reuben's  voice  could  be  heard  above  the  din. 

"  Hear  dat !  You  niggers !  Dat's  my  ole  Marster 
talkin'  now ! " 

"  Let  me  say  to  the  negroes  here  to-day,  this  war  was 
not  fought  for  your  freedom  by  the  North,  and  yet  in 
its  terrific  struggle,  God  saw  fit  to  give  you  freedom. 
Life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  are  now  yours 
and  the  birthright  of  your  children. 

"  We  need  your  labour.  Be  honest,  humble,  patient,  in- 
dustrious and  every  white  man  in  the  South  will  be  your 
friend.  What  you  need  now  is  to  go  to  work  with  all 
your  might,  build  a  roof  over  your  head,  get  a  few  acres 
of  land  under  your  feet  that  is  your  own,  put  decent 
clothes  on  your  back,  and  some  money  in  the  bank,  and 
you  will  become  indispensable  to  the  people  of  the  South. 
They  will  be  your  best  friends  and  give  you  every  right 
and  privilege  you  are  prepared  to  receive. 
•  "  The  man  who  tells  you  that  your  old  Master's  land 
will  be  divided  among  you,  is  a  criminal,  or  a  fool,  or 
both.  If  you  ever  own  land,  you  will  earn  it  in  the 
sweat  of  your  brow  like  I  got  mine." 

"  Hear  dat  now,  niggers ! "  cried  old  Reuben. 

"  The  man  who  tells  you  that  you  are  going  to  be 


A  Master  of  Men  67 

given  the  ballot  indiscriminately  with  which  you  can  rule 
your  old  masters  is  a  criminal  or  a  fool,  or  both.  It  is 
insanity  to  talk  about  the  enfranchisement  of  a  million 
slaves  who  can  not  read  their  ballots.  Mr.  Lincoln  who 
set  you  free  was  opposed  to  any  such  measure. 

"  Let  me  read  an  extract  from  a  letter  Mr.  Lincoln 
wrote  me  just  before  the  war." 

The  General  drew  from  his  pocket  a  letter  in  the  hand- 
writing of  the  President  and  read: — 

"  MY  DEAR  WORTH  : — You  must  hold  the  Union  men 
of  the  South  together  at  all  hazards.  The  one  passion 
of  my  soul  is  to  save  the  Union.  In  answer  to  the 
question  you  ask  me  about  the  equality  of  the  races  I 
enclose  you  a  newspaper  clipping  reporting  my  reply  to 
Judge  Douglas  at  Charleston,  Sept.  18,  1858.  I  could 
not  express  myself  more  plainly.  Have  this  extract  pub- 
lished in  every  paper  in  the  South  you  can  get  to  print  it." 

The  General  paused  and  turning  toward  the  negroes 
said, 

"Now  listen  carefully  to  every  word.  Says  Mr.  Lin- 
coln, 

/  am  not,  nor  ever  have  been  in  favour  of  bringing 
about  in  any  zvay  the  social  and  political  equality  of  the 
white  and  black  races!  (here  is  marked  applause  from  a 
Northern  audience.)  /  am  not,  nor  ever  have  been  in 
favour  of  making  voters  or  jurors  of  negroes,  nor  of 
qualifying  them  to  hold  office,  nor  to  intermarry  with 
white  people.  I  will  say  in  addition  to  this  that  there 
is  a  physical  difference  between  the  white  and  black  races 
which  I  believe  will  forever  forbid  the  two  races  living 
together  on  terms  of  social  and  political  equality:  and  in- 
asmuch as  they  can  not  so  live,  while  they  do  remain  to- 
gether, there  must  be  the  position  of  the  inferior  and 


68  The  Leopard  s  Spots 

superior,  and  I  am,  as  much  as  any  other  man,  in  favour 
of  having  the  superior  position  assigned  to  the  white 
race. 

"  This  was  Lincoln's  position  and  is  the  position  of 
nine-tenths  of  the  voters  of  his  party.  It  is  insanity  to 
believe  that  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  at  the  North  can  ever 
be  so  blinded  by  passion  that  they  can  assume  any  other 
position. 

"  Slavery  is  dead  for  all  time.  It  would  have  been 
destroyed  whatever  the  end  of  the  war.  I  know  some  of 
the  secrets  of  the  diplomatic  history  of  the  Confederacy. 
General  Lee  asked  the  government  at  Richmond  to 
enlist  200,000  negroes  to  defend  the  South,  which  he 
declared  was  their  country  as  well  as  ours,  and  grant 
them  freedom  on  enlistment.  General  Lee's  request  was 
ultimately  accepted  as  the  policy  of  the  Confederacy 
though  too  late  to  save  its  waning  fortunes.  Not  only 
this,  but  the  Confederate  government  sent  a  special  am- 
bassador to  England  and  France  and  offered  them  the 
pledge  of  the  South  to  emancipate  every  slave  in  return 
for  the  recognition  of  the  independence  of  the  Confeder- 
acy. But  when  the  ambassador  arrived  in  Europe,  the 
lines  of  our  army  had  been  so  broken,  the  governments 
were  afraid  to  interfere. 

"  The  man  who  tells  you  that  your  old  masters  are 
your  enemies  and  may  try  to  reinslave  you  is  a  wilful 
and  malicious  liar.  " 

"  Hear  dat,  folks !  "  yelled  old  Reuben  as  he  waved 
his  arm  grandly  toward  the  crowd. 

"  To  the  white  people  here  to-day,  I  say  be  of  good 
cheer.  Let  politics  alone  for  awhile  and  build  up  your 
ruined  homes.  You  have  boundless  wealth  in  your  soil. 
God  will  not  forget  to  send  the  rain  and  the  dew  and 
the  sun.  You  showed  yourselves  on  a  hundred  fields 
ready  to  die  for  your  country.  Now  I  ask  you  to  do 


A  Master  of  Men  69 

something  braver  and  harder.  Live  for  her  when  it  is 
hard  to  live.  Let  cowards  run,  but  let  the  brave  stand 
shoulder  to  shoulder  and  build  up  the  waste  places 
till  our  country  is  once  more  clothed  in  wealth  and 
beauty.  " 

The  General  bowed  in  closing  to  a  round  of  applause. 
His  soldiers  were  delighted  with  his  speech  and  his 
old  slaves  revelled  in  it  with  personal  pride.  But  the 
rank  and  file  of  the  negroes  were  puzzled.  He  did 
not  preach  the  kind  of  doctrine  they  wished  to  hear.  They 
had  hoped  freedom  meant  eternal  rest,  not  work.  They 
had  dreamed  of  a  life  of  ease  with  government  rations 
three  times  a  day,  and  old  army  clothes  to  last  till  they 
put  "on  the  white  robes  above  and  struck  their  golden 
harps  in  paradise.  This  message  the  General  brought 
was  painful  to  their  newly  awakened  imaginations. 

As  the  General  passed  through  the  crowd  he  met  the 
Ex-Provisional  Governor,  Amos  Hogg,  busy  with  the 
organising  work  of  his  Leagues. 

"  Glad  to  see  you  General,"  said  Hogg  extending  his 
hand  with  a  smile  on  his  leathery  face. 

"  Well,  how  are  you,  Amos,  since  Macon  pulled  your 
wool  ?  " 

"  Never  felt  better  in  my  life,  General.  I  want  a  few 
minutes'  talk  with  you." 

"All  right,  what  is  it?" 

"  General,  you're  a  progressive  man.  Come,  you're 
flirting  with  the  enemy.  The  truly  loyal  men  must  get 
together  to  rescue  the  state  from  the  rebels  who  have  it 
again  under  their  heel." 

"  So  Macon's  a  rebel  because  he  licked  you  ?  " 

"You  know  the  rebel  crowd  are  running  this  state," 
said  Hogg. 

"  Why,  Hogg  you  were  the  biggest  fool  Secessionist  I 
ever  saw,  and  Macon  and  I  were  staunch  Union  men. 


7O  The  Leopard's  Spots 

We  had  to  fight  you  tooth  and  nail.  You  talk  about 
the  truly  loyal !  " 

"Yes  but,  General,  I've  repented.  I've  got  my  face 
turned  toward  the  light." 

"  Yes,  I  see, — the  light  that  shines  in  the  Governor's 
Mansion." 

"  I  don't  deny  it.  '  Great  men  choose  greater  sins,  am- 
bition's mine/  Come  into  this  Union  movement  with  me, 
Worth,  and  I'll  make  you  the  next  Governor." 

"  I'll  see  you  in  hell  first.  No,  Amos,  we  don't  belong 
to  the  same  breed.  You  were  a  Secessionist  as  long  as 
it  paid.  When  the  people  you  had  misled  were  being 
overwhelmed  with  ruin,  and  it  no  longer  paid,  you  de- 
serted and  became  '  loyal '  to  get  an  office.  Now  ycfu're 
organising  the  negroes,  deserters,  and  criminals  into  your 
secret  oath-bound  societies.  Union  men  when  the  war 
came  fought  on  one  side  or  the  other,  because  a  Union 
man  was  a  man,  not  a  coward.  If  he  felt  his  state 
claimed  his  first  love,  he  fought  for  his  native  soil.  The 
gang  of  plugs  you  are  getting  together  now  as  '  truly 
loyal '  are  simply  cowards,  deserters,  and  common  crim- 
inals who  claim  they  were  persecuted  as  Union  men.  It's 
a  weak  lie." 

"  We'll  win,"  urged  Hogg. 

"  Never !  "  the  General  snorted,  and  angrily  turned  on 
his  heel.  Before  leaving  he  wheeled  suddenly,  faced 
Hogg  and  said, 

"  Go  on  with  your  fool  societies.  You  are  sowing  the 
wind.  There'll  be  a  lively  harvest.  I  am  organising  too. 
I'm  organising  a  cotton  mill,  rebuilding  our  burned  fac- 
tory, borrowing  money  from  the  Yankees  who  licked  us 
to  buy  machinery  and  give  employment  to  thousands  of 
our  poor  people.  That's  the  way  to  save  the  state.  We've 
got  water  power  enough  to  turn  the  wheels  of  the 
world." 


A  Master  of  Men  71 

"  You'll  need  our  protection  in  the  fight  that's  coming," 
replied  Hogg,  with  a  straight  look  that  meant  much. 

The  General  was  silent  a  moment.  Then  he  shook  his 
fist  in  Hogg's  face  and  slowly  said, 

"  Let  me  tell  you  something.  When  I  need  protection 
I'll  go  to  headquarters.  I've  got  Yankee  money  in  my 
mills  and  I  can  get  more  if  I  need  it.  You  lay  your  dirty 
claws  on  them  and  I'll  break  your  neck.  " 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  MAN  OR  BRUTE  IN  EMBRYO 

TWO  months  later  General  Worth,  while  busy  re- 
building his  mills  at  Independence,  had  served 
on  him  a  summons  to  appear  before  the  Agent 
of  the  Freedman's  Bureau  at  Hambright  and  answer  the 
charge  of  using  "  abusive  language  "  to  a  freedman. 

The  particular  freedman  who  desired  to  have  his  feel- 
ings soothed  by  law  was  a  lazy  young  negro  about  sixteen 
years  old  whom  the  General  had  ordered  whipped  and 
sent  from  the  stables  into  the  fields  on  one  occasion  dur- 
ing the  war  while  on  a  visit  to  his  farm.  Evidently 
the  boy  had  a  long  memory. 

"  Now  don't  that  beat  the  devil !  "  exclaimed  the  Gen- 
eral. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  his  foreman. 

"  I've  got  to  leave  my  work,  ride  on  an  old  freight 
train  thirty  miles,  pull  through  twenty  more  miles  of  red 
mud  in  a  buggy  to  get  to  Hambright,  and  lose  four  days, 
to  answer  such  a  charge  as  that  before  some  little  wizen- 
eyed  skunk  of  a  Bureau  Agent.  My  God,  it's  enough  to 
make  a  Union  man  remember  Secession  with  regrets ! " 

"  My  stars,  General,  we  can't  get  along  without  you 
now  when  we  are  getting  this  machinery  in  place.  Send 
a  lawyer,"  growled  the  foreman. 

"  Can't  do  it,  John — I'm  charged  with  a  crime." 

"  Well,  I'll  swear !  " 

"Do  the  best  you  can,  I'll  be  back  in  four  days,  if 

72 


The  Man  or  Brute  in  Embryo  73 

I  don't  kill  a  nigger !  "  said  the  General  with  a  smile. 
"  I've  got  a  settlement  to  make  with  the  farm  hands  any- 
how." 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  When  the  court  convened, 
and  the  young  negro  saw  the  face  of  his  old  master  red 
with  wrath,  his  heart  failed  him.  He  fled  the  town  and 
there  was  no  accusing  witness. 

The  General  gazed  at  the  Agent  with  cold  contempt 
and  never  opened  his  mouth  in  answer  to  expressions 
of  regret  at  the  fiasco. 

A  few  moments  later  he  rode  up  to  the  gate  of  his 
farm  house  on  the  river  hills  about  a  mile  out  of  town. 
A  strapping  young  fellow  of  fifteen  hastened  to  open 
the  gate. 

"Well,  Allan,  my  boy,  how  are  you?" 

"  First  rate,  General.  We're  glad  to  see  you !  but  we 
didn't  make  a  half  crop,  sir,  the  niggers  were  always 
in  town  loafing  around  that  Freedman's  Bureau,  holding 
meetings  all  night  and  going  to  sleep  in  the  fields." 

"  Well,  show  me  the  books,"  said  the  General  as  they 
entered  the  house. 

The  General  examined  the  accounts  with  care  and  then 
looked  at  young  Allan  McLeod  for  a  moment  as  though 
he  had  made  a  discovery. 

"  Young  man,  you've  done  this  work  well." 

"  I  tried  to,  sir.  If  the  niggers  dispute  anything,  I 
fixed  that  by  making  the  store-keepers  charge  each  item 
in  two  books,  one  on  your  account,  and  one  on  an  account 
kept  separate  for  every  nigger." 

"  Good  enough.  They'll  get  up  early  to  get  ahead  of 
you." 

"  I'm  afraid  they  are  going  to  make  trouble  at  the 
Bureau,  sir.  That  Agent's  been  here  holding  Union 
League  meetings  two  or  three  nights  every  week,  and 
he's  got  every  nigger  under  his  thumb." 


74  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  The  dirty  whelp !  "  growled  the  General. 

"  If  you  can  see  me  out  of  the  trouble,  General,  I'd 
like  to  jump  on  him  and  beat  the  life  out  of  him  next 
time  he  comes  out  here !  "  \ 

The  General  frowned. 

"  Don't  you  touch  him, — any  more  than  you  would 
a  pole  cat.  I've  trouble  enough  just  now." 

"  I  could  knock  the  mud  out  of  him  in  two  minutes, 
if  you  say  the  word,"  said  Allan  eagerly. 

"Yes,  I've  no  doubt  of  it."  The  General  looked  at 
him  thoughtfully. 

He*  was  a  well  knit  powerful  youth  just  turned  his 
fifteenth  birthday.  He  had  red  hair,  a  freckled  face,  and 
florid  complexion.  His  features  were  regular  and  pleas- 
ing, and  his  stalwart  muscular  figure  gave  him  a  hand- 
some look  that  impressed  one  with  indomitable  physical 
energy.  His  lips  were  full  and  sensuous,  his  eyebrows 
straight,  and  his  high  forehead  spoke  of  brain  power  as 
well  as  horse  power. 

He  had  a  habit  of  licking  his  lips  and  running  his 
tongue  around  inside  of  his  cheeks  when  he  saw  any- 
thing or  heard  anything  that  pleased  him  that  was  far 
from  intellectual  in  its  suggestiveness.  When  he  did  this 
one  could  not  help  feeling  that  he  was  looking  at  a  young 
well  fed  tiger.  There  was  no  doubt  about  his  being  alive 
and  that  he  enjoyed  it.  His  boisterous  voice  and  ready 
laughter  emphasised  this  impression. 

"  Allan,  my  boy,"  said  the  General  when  he  had  ex- 
amined his  accounts,  "  if  you  do  everything  in  life  as  well 
as  you  did  these  books,  you'll  make  a  success." 

"  I'm  going  to  do  my  best  to  succeed,  General.  I'll 
not  be  a  poor  white  man.  Ill  promise  you  that.  " 

"  Do  you  go  to  church  anywhere  ?  " 

"  No  sir,  Maw's  not  a  member  of  any  church,  and  it's 
so  far  to  town  I  don't  go." 


The  Man  or  Brute  in  Embryo  75 

"Well,  you  must  go.  You  must  go  to  the  Sunday 
School  too,  and  get  acquainted  with  all  the  young  folks. 
I'll  speak  to  Mrs.  Durham  and  get  her  to  look  after  you." 

"All  right,  sir,  I'll  start  next  Sunday."  Allan  was 
feeling  just  then  in  a  good  humour  with  himself  and  all 
the  world.  The  compliment  of  his  employer  had  so  elated 
him,  he  felt  fully  prepared  to  enter  the  ministry  if  the 
General  had  only  suggested  it. 

The  following  day  was  appointed  for  a  settlement  of 
the  annual  contract  with  the  negroes.  The  Agent  of  the 
Freedman's  Bureau  was  the  judge  before  whom  the  Gen- 
eral, his  overseer,  and  clerk  of  account,  and  all  the  negroes 
assembled. 

If  the  devil  himself  had  devised  an  instrument  for 
creating  race  antagonism  and  strife  he  could  not  have 
improved  on  this  Bureau  in  its  actual  workings.  Had 
clean  handed,  competent  agents  been  possible  it  might 
have  accomplished  good.  These  agents  were  as  a  rule 
the  riff-raff  and  trash  of  the  'North.  It  was  the  supreme 
opportunity  of  army  cooks,  teamsters,  fakirs,  and  broken 
down  preachers  who  had  turned  insurance  agents.  They 
were  lifted  from  penury  to  affluence  and  power.  The  pos- 
sibility of  corruption  and  downright  theft  were  practically 
limitless. 

The  Agent  at  Hambright  had  been  a  preacher  in  Michi- 
gan who  lost  his  church  because  of  unsavory  rumours 
about  his  character.  He  had  eked  out  a  living  as  a  book 
agent,  and  then  insurance  agent.  He  was  a  man  of  some 
education  and  had  a  glib  tongue  which  the  negroes  readily 
mistook  for  inspired  eloquence.  He  assumed  great  dig- 
nity and  an  extraordinary  judicial  tone  of  voice  when 
adjusting  accounts. 

General  Worth  submitted  his  accounts  and  they  showed 
that  all  but  six  of  the  fifty  negroes  employed  had  a  little 
overdrawn  their  wages  in  provisions  and  clothing. 


76  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I  think  there  is  a  mistake,  General,  in  these  accounts/' 
said  the  Rev.  Ezra  Perkins  the  Agent. 

"  What?  "  thundered  the  General. 

"  A  mistake  in  your  view  of  the  contracts,"  answered 
Ezra  in  his  oiliest  tone. 

The  negroes  began  to  grin  and  nudge  one  another, 
amid  exclamations  of  "  Dar  now !  "  "  Hear  dat !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  The  contracts  are  plain.  There 
can  be  but  one  interpretation.  I  agreed  to  furnish  the 
men  their  supplies  in  advance  and  wait  until  the  end  of 
the  year  for  adjustment  after  the  crops  were  gathered.  As 
it  is,  I  will  lose  over  five  hundred  dollars  on  the  farm." 
The  General  paused  and  looked  at  the  Agent  with  rising 
wrath. 

"  It's  useless  to  talk.  I  decide  that  under  this  contract 
you  are  to  furnish  supplies  yourself  and  pay  your  people 
their  monthly  wages  besides.  I  have  figured  it  out  that 
you  owe  them  a  little  over  fifteen  hundred  dollars." 

"  Fifteen  hundred  dollars !    You  thief !  " 

"  Softly,  softly ! — I'll  commit  you  for  contempt  of 
court !  " 

The  General  turned  on  his  heel  without  a  word,  sprang 
on  his  horse,  and  in  a  few  minutes  alighted  at  the  hotel. 
He  encountered  the  assistant  agent  of  the  Bureau  on  the 
steps. 

"  Did  you  wish  to  see  me,  General?  "  he  asked. 

"  No !  I'm  looking  for  a  man — a  Union  soldier  not  a 
turkey  buzzard !  "  He  dashed  up  to  the  clerk's  desk. 

"  Is  Major  Grant  in  his  room?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Tell  him  I  want  to  see  him." 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  General  Worth?  "  asked  the 
Major  as  he  hastened  to  meet  him. 

"  Major  Grant,  I  understand  you  are  a  lawyer.    You 


YOU      THIEF 


The  Man  or  Brute  in  Embryo  77 

are  a  man  of  principle,  or  you  wouldn't  have  fought. 
When  I  meet  a  man  that  fought  us  I  know  I  am  talking 
to  a  man,  not  a  skunk.  This  greasy  sanctified  Bureau 
Agent,  has  decided  that  I  owe  my  hands  fifteen  hundred 
dollars.  He  knows  it's  a  lie.  But  his  power  is  absolute. 
I  have  no  appeal  to  a  court.  He  has  all  the  negroes 
under  his  thumb  and  he  is  simply  arranging  to  steal  this 
money.  I  want  to  pay  you  a  hundred  dollars  as  a  re- 
tainer and  have  you  settle  with  the  Lord's  anointed,  the 
Rev.  Ezra  Perkins  for  me." 

"  With  pleasure,  General.  And  it  shall  not  cost  you 
a  cent." 

"  I'll  be  glad  to  pay  you,  Major.  Such  a  decision  en- 
forced against  me  now  would  mean  absolute  ruin.  I 
can't  borrow  another  cent." 

"  Leave  Ezra  with  me." 

"  Why  couldn't  they  put  soldiers  into  this  Bureau  if 
they  had  to  have  it,  instead  of  these  skunks  and  wolves  ?  " 
snorted  the  General. 

"  Well,  some  of  them  are  a  little  off  in  the  odour  of 
their  records  at  home,  I'll  admit,"  said  the  Major  with  a 
dry  smile.  "  But  this  is  the  day  of  the  carrion  crow, 
General.  You  know  they  always  follow  the  armies.  They 
attack  the  wounded  as  well  as  the  dead.  You  have  my 
heartfelt  sympathy.  You  have  dark  days  ahead !  The 
death  of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  the  most  awful  calamity  that 
could  possibly  have  "befallen  the  South.  I'm  sorry.  I've 
learned  to  like  you  Southerners,  and  to  love  these  beautiful 
skies,  and  fields  of  eternal  green.  It's  my  country  and 
yours.  I  fought  you  to  keep  it  as  the  heritage  of  my 
children." 

The  General's  eyes  filled  with  tears  and  the  two  men 
silently  clasped  each  other's  hands. 

"  Send  in  your  accounts  by  your  clerk.    I'll  look  them 


7*  The  Leopard's  Spots 

over  to-night  and  I've  no  doubt  the  Honourable  Reverend 
Ezra  Perkins  will  see  a  new  light  with  the  rising  of  to- 
morrow's sun/' 

And  Ezra  did  see  a  new  light.  As  the  Major  cursed 
him  in  all  the  moods  and  tenses  he  knew,  Ezra  thought 
he  smelled  brimstone  in  that  light. 

"  I  assure  you,  Major,  I'm  sorry  the  thing  happened. 
My  assistant  did  all  the  work  on  these  papers.  I  hadn't 
time  to  give  them  personal  attention,"  the  Agent  apolo- 
gised in  his  humblest  voice. 

"  You're  a  liar.    Don't  waste  your  breath." 

Ezra  bit  his  lips  and  pulled  his  Mormon  whiskers. 

"  Write  out  your  decision  now — this  minute — confirm- 
ing these  accounts  in  double  quick  order,  unless  you  are 
looking  for  trouble." 

And  Ezra  hastened  to  do  as  he  was  bidden. 

The  next  day  while  the  General  was  seated  on  the  porch 
of  the  little  hotel  discussing  his  campaigns  with  Major 
Grant,  Tom  Camp  sent  for  him. 

Tom  took  the  General  round  behind  his  house,  with 
grave  ceremony. 

"  What  are  you  up  to,  Tom?  " 

"  Show  you  in  a  minute !  I  wish  I  could  make  you  a 
handsomer  present,  General,  to  show  you  how  much  I 
think  of  you.  But  I  know  yer  weakness  anyhow.  There's 
the  finest  lot  er  lightwood  you  ever  seed.  " 

Tom  turned  back  some  old  bagging  and  revealed  a 
pile  of  fat  pine  chips  covered  with  rosin,  evidently 
chipped  carefully  out  of  the  boxed  place  of  live  pine 
trees. 

The  General  had  two  crochets,  lightwood  and  water- 
power.  When  he  got  hold  of  a  fine  lot  of  lightwood 
suitable  for  kindling  fires,  he  would  fill  his  closet  with  it, 
conceal  it  under  his  bed,  and  sometimes  under  his  mat- 


The  Man  or  Brute  in  Embryo  79 

tress.     He  would  even  hide  it  in  his  bureau  drawers 
and  wardrobe  and  take  it  out  in  little  bits  like  a  miser. 

"  Lord  Tom,  that  beats  the  world !  " 

"Ain't  it  fine?    Just  smell?" 

"  Rosin  on  every  piece !  Tom,  you  cut  every  tree  on 
your  place  and  every  tree  in  two  miles  clean  to  get 
that.  You  couldn't  have  made  me  a  gift  I  would  appre- 
ciate more.  Old  boy,  if  there's  ever  a  time  in  your  life 
that  you  need  a  friend,  you  know  where  to  find  me." 

"  I  knowed  ye'd  like  it !  "  said  Tom  with  a  smile. 

"  Tom,  you're  a  man  after  my  own  heart.  You're  feel- 
ing rich  enough  to  make  your  General  a  present  when  we 
are  all  about  to  starve.  You're  a  man  of  faith.  So  am 
I.  I  say  keep  a  stiff  upper  lip  and  peg  away.  The  sun 
still  shines,  the  rains  refresh,  and  water  runs  down  hill 
yet.  That's  one  thing  Uncle  Billy  Sherman's  army 
•couldn't  do  much  with  when  they  put  us  to  the  test  of 
fire.  He  couldn't  burn  up  our  water  power.  Tom,  you 
may  not  know  it,  but  I  do — we've  got  water  power 
enough  to  turn  every  wheel  in  the  world.  Wait  till  we 
get  our  harness  on  it  and  make  it  spin  and  weave  our 
cotton, — we'll  feed  and  clothe  the  human  race.  Faith's 
my  motto.  I  can  hardly  get  enough  to  eat  now,  but 
better  times  are  coming.  A  man's  just  as  big  as  his  faith. 
I've  got  faith  in  the  South.  I've  got  faith  in  the  good 
will  of  the  people  of  the  North.  Slavery  is  dead. 
They  can't  feel  anything  but  kindly  toward  an  enemy 
that  fought  as  bravely  and  lost  all.  We've  got  one 
country  now  and  it's  going  to  be  a  great  one.  " 

"  You're  right,  General,  faith's  the  word.  " 

"  Tom,  you  don't  know  how  this  gift  from  you  touches 
me." 

The  General  pressed  the  old  soldier's  hand  with  feel- 
ing. He  changed  his  orders  from  a  buggy  to  a  two- 
horse  team  that  could  carry  all  his  precious  lightwood. 


8o  The  Leopard's  Spots 

He  filled  the  vehicle,  and  what  was  left  he  packed  care- 
fully in  his  valise. 

He  stopped  his  team  in  front  of  the  Baptist  parsonage 
to  see  Mrs.  Durham  about  Allan  McLeod. 

"  Delighted  to  see  you,  General  Worth.  It's  refreshing 
to  look  into  the  faces  of  our  great  leaders,  if  they  are  still 
outlawed  as  rebels  by  the  Washington  government." 

"Ah,  Madam,  I  need  not  say  it  is  refreshing  to  see 
you,  the  rarest  and  most  beautiful  flower  of  the  old 
South  in  the  days  of  her  wealth  and  pride !  And  always 
the  same !  "  The  General  bowed  over  her  hand. 

"  Yes,  I  haven't  surrendered  yet." 

"  And  you  never  will,"  he  laughed. 

"Why  should  I?  They've  done  their  worst.  They 
have  robbed  me  of  all.  I've  only  rags  and  ashes  left." 

"  Things  might  still  be  worse,  Madam." 

"  I  can't  see  it.  There  is  nothing  but  suffering  and 
ruin  before  us.  These  ignorant  negroes  are  now  being 
taught  by  people  who  hate  or  misunderstand  us.  They 
can  only  be  a  scourge  te  society.  I  am  heart-sick  when 
I  try  to  think  of  the  future !  " 

There  was  a  mist  about  her  eyes  that  betrayed  the 
deep  emotion  with  which  she  uttered  the  last  sentence. 

She  was  a  queenly  woman  of  the  brunette  type  with 
full  face  of  striking  beauty  surmounted  by  a  mass  of 
rich  chestnut  hair.  The  loss  of  her  slaves  and  estate  in 
the  war  had  burned  its  message  of  bitterness  into  her 
soul.  She  had  the  ways  of  that  imperious  aristocracy 
of  the  South  that  only  slavery  could  nourish.  She  was 
still  uncompromising  upon  every  issue  that  touched  the 
life  of  the  past. 

She  believed  in  slavery  as  the  only  possible  career  for 
a  negro  in  America.  The  war  had  left  her  cynical  on 
the  future  of  the  new  "  Mulatto  "  nation  as  she  called  it, 
born  in  its  agony.  Her  only  child  had  died  during  the 


The  Man  or  Brute  in  Embryo  81 

war,  and  this  great  sorrow  had  not  softened  but  rather 
hardened  her  nature. 

Her  husband's  career  as  a  preacher  was  now  a  double 
cross  to  her  because  it  meant  the  doom  of  eternal  pov- 
erty. In  spite  of  her  love  for  her  husband  and  her  deter- 
mination with  all  her  opposite  tastes  to  do  her  duty  as 
his  wife,  she  could  not  get  used  to  poverty.  She  hated 
it  in  her  soul  with  quiet  intensity. 

The  General  was  thinking  of  all  this  as  he  tried  to 
frame  a  cheerful  answer.  Somehow  he  could  not  think  of 
anything  worth  while  to  say  to  her.  So  he  changed  the 
subject. 

"  Mrs.  Durham,  I've  called  to  ask  your  interest  in  your 
Sunday  School  in  a  boy  who  is  a  sort  of  ward  of  mine, 
young  Allan  McLeod." 

"  That  handsome  red-headed  fellow  that  looks  like 
a  tiger,  I've  seen  playing  in  the  streets  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  want  you  to  tame  him." 

"  Well,  I  will  try  for  your  sake,  though  he's  a  little 
older  than  any  boy  in  my  class.  He  must  be  over 
fifteen." 

"  Just  fifteen.  I'm  deeply  interested  in  him.  I  am 
going  to  give  him  a  good  education.  His  father  was  a 
drunken  Scotchman  in  my  brigade,  whose  loyalty  to  me 
as  his  chief  was  so  genuine  and  touching  I  couldn't  help 
loving  him.  He  was  a  man  of  fine  intellect  and  some 
culture.  His  trouble  was  drink.  He  never  could  get 
up  in  life  on  that  account.  I  have  an  idea  tfiat  he  married 
his  wife  while  on  one  of  his  drunks.  She  is  from  down 
in  Robeson  county,  and  he  told  me  she  was  related  to  the 
outlaws  who  have  infested  that  section  for  years.  This 
boy  looks  like  his  mother,  though  he  gets  that  red  hair 
and  those  laughing  eyes  from  his  father.  I  want  you  to 
take  hold  of  him  and  civilise  him  for  me." 

"  I'll  try,  General.    You  know,  I  love  boys." 


82  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  You  will  find  him  rude  and  boisterous  at  first,  but  I 
think  he's  got  something  in  him." 

"  I'll  send  for  him  to  come  to  see  me  Saturday." 

"  Thank  you,  Madam.  I  must  go.  My  love  to  Dr. 
Durham." 

The  next  Saturday  when  Mrs.  Durham  walked  into 
her  little  parlour  to  see  Allan,  the  boy  was  scared  nearly 
out  of  his  wits.  He  sprang  to  his  feet,  stammered  and 
blushed,  and  looked  as  though  he  were  going  to  jump 
out  of  the  window. 

Mrs.  Durham  looked  at  him  with  a  smile  that  quite 
disarmed  his  fears,  took  his  outstretched  hand,  and  held 
it  trembling  in  hers. 

"  I  know  we  will  be  good  friends,  won't  we?  " 

"  Yessum,"  he  stammered. 

"  And  you  won't  tie  any  more  tin  cans  to  dogs  like 
you  did  to  Charlie  Gaston's  little  terrier,  will  you  ?  I  like 
boys  full  of  life  and  spirit,  just  so  they  don't  do  mean 
and  cruel  things." 

The  boy  was  ready  to  promise  her  anything.  He  was 
charmed  with  her  beauty  and  gentle  ways.  He  thought 
her  the  most  beautiful  woman  he  had  ever  seen  in  the 
world. 

As  they  started  toward  the  door,  she  gently  slipped 
one  arm  around  him,  put  her  hand  under  his  chin  and 
kissed  him. 

Then  he  was  ready  to  die  for  her.  It  was  the  first  kiss 
he  had  ever  received  from  a  woman's  lips.  His  mother 
was  not  a  demonstrative  woman.  He  never  recalled  a 
kiss  she  had  given  him.  His  blood  tingled  with  the 
delicious  sense  of  this  one's  sweetness.  All  the  afternoon 
he  sat  out  under  a  tree  and  dreamed  and  watched  the 
house  where  this  wonderful  thing  had  happened  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XI 
SIMON  LEGREE 

IN  the  death  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  a  group  of  radical  poli- 
ticians, hitherto  suppressed,  saw  their  supreme 
opportunity  to  obtain  control  of  the  nation  in  the 
crisis  of  an  approaching  Presidential  campaign. 

Now  they  could  fasten  their  schemes  of  proscription, 
confiscation,  and  revenge  upon  the  South. 

Mr.  Lincoln  had  held  these  wolves  at  bay  during  his 
life  by  the  power  of  his  great  personality.  But  the  Lion 
was  dead,  and  the  Wolf,  who  had  snarled  and  snapped 
at  him  in  life,  put  on  his  skin  and  claimed  the  heritage 
of  his  power.  The  Wolf  whispered  his  message  of  hate, 
and  in  the  hour  of  partisan  passion  became  the  master 
of  the  nation. 

Busy  feet  had  been  hurrying  back  and  forth  from  the 
Southern  states  to  Washington  whispering  in  the  Wolf's 
ear  the  stories  of  sure  success,  if  only  the  plan  of  pro- 
scription, disfranchisement  of  whites,  and  enfranchise- 
ment of  blacks  were  carried  out. 

This  movement  was  inaugurated  two  years  after  the 
war,  with  every  Southern  state  in  profound  peace,  and 
in  a  life  and  death  struggle  with  nature  to  prevent  fam- 
ine. The  new  revolution  destroyed  the  Union  a  second 
time,  paralysed  every  industry  in  the  South,  and  trans- 
formed ten  peaceful  states  into  roaring  hells  of  anarchy. 
We  have  easily  outlived  the  sorrows  of  the  war. 
That  was  a.  surgery  which  healed  ,the  body.  But  the 

83 


84  The  Leopard's  Spots 

child  has  not  yet  been  born  whose  children's  children 
will  live  to  see  the  healing  of  the  wounds  from  those 
four  years  of  chaos,  when  fanatics  blinded  by  passion, 
armed  millions  of  ignorant  negroes  and  thrust  them 
into  mortal  combat  with  the  proud,  bleeding,  half- 
starving  Anglo-Saxon  race  of  the  South.  Such  a  deed 
once  done,  can  never  be  undone.  It  fixes  the  status  of 
these  races  for  a  thousand  years,  if  not  for  eternity. 

The  South  was  now  rapidly  gathering  into  two  hostile 
armies  under  these  influences,  with  race  marks  as  uni- 
forms— the  Black  against  the  White. 

The  Negro  army  was  under  the  command  of  a  tri- 
umvirate, the  Carpet-bagger  from  the  North,  the  native 
Scalawag  and  the  Negro  Demagogue. 

Entirely  distinct  from  either  of  j:hese  was  the  genuine 
Yankee  soldier  settler  in  the  South  after  the  war,  who 
came  because  he  loved  its  genial  skies  and  kindly  people. 

Ultimately  some  of  these  'Northern  settlers  were  forced 
into  politics  by  conditions  around  them,  and  they  con- 
stituted the  only  conscience  and  brains  visible  in  public 
life  during  the  reign  of  terror  which  the  "  Reconstruc- 
tion "  regime  inaugurated. 

In  the  winter  of  1866  the  Union  League  at  Hambright 
held  a  meeting  of  special  importance.  The  attendance 
was  large  and  enthusiastic. 

Amos  Hogg,  the  defeated  candidate  for  Governor  in 
the  last  election,  now  the  President  of  the  Federation  of 
"  Loyal  Leagues,"  had  sent  a  special  ambassador  to  this 
meeting  to  receive  reports  and  give  instructions. 

This  ambassador  was  none  other  than  the  famous 
Simon  Legree  of  Red  River,  who  had  migrated  to  North 
Carolina  attracted  by  the  first  proclamation  of  the  Presi- 
dent, announcing  his  plan  for  readmitting  the  state  to 
the  Union.  The  rumours  of  his  death  proved  a  mistake. 
He  had  quit  drink,  and  set  his  mind  on  greater  vices. 


Simon  Legree  85 

In  his  face  were  the  features  of  the  distinguished 
ruffian  whose  cruelty  to  his  slaves  had  made  him  unique 
in  infamy  in  the  annals  of  the  South.  He  was  now  pre- 
eminently the  type  of  the  "truly  loyal".  At  the  first 
rumour  of  war  he  had  sold  his  negroes  and  migrated 
nearer  the  border  land,  that  he  might  the  better  avoid 
service  in  either  army.  He  succeeded  in  doing  this.  The 
last  two  years  of  the  war,  however,  the  enlisting  officers 
pressed  him  hard,  until  finally  he  hit  on  a  brilliant 
scheme. 

He  shaved  clean,  and  dressed  as  a  German  emigrant 
woman.  He  wore  dresses  for  two  years,  did  house  work, 
milked  the  cows  and  cut  wood  for  a  good  natured  old 
German.  He  paid  for  his  board,  and  passed  for  a  sister, 
just  from  the  old  country. 

When  the  war  closed,  he  resumed  male  attire,  became  a 
violent  Union  man,  and  swore  that  he  had  been  hounded 
and  persecuted  without  mercy  by  the  Secessionist  rebels. 

He  was  looking  more  at  ease  now  than  ever  in  his  life. 
He  wore  a  silk  hat  and  a  new  suit  of  clothes  made  by  a 
fashionable  tailor  in  Raleigh.  He  was  a  little  older  look- 
ing than  when  he  killed  Uncle  Tom  on  his  farm  some  ten 
years  before,  but  otherwise  unchanged.  He  had  the  same 
short  muscular  body,  round  bullet  head,  light  grey  eyes 
and  shaggy  eyebrows,  but  his  deep  chestnut  bristly  hair 
had  been  trimmed  by  a  barber.  His  coarse  thick  lips 
drooped  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth  and  emphasised  the 
crook  in  his  nose.  His  eyes,  well  set  apart,  as  of  old.  were 
bold,  commanding,  and  flashed  with  the  cold  light  of 
glittering  steel.  His  teeth  that  once  were  pointed  like 
the  fangs  of  a  wolf  had  been  filed  by  a  dentist  But  it 
required  more  than  the  file  of  a  dentist  to  smooth  out 
of  that  face  the  ferocity  and  cruelty  that  years  of  dis- 
solute habits  had  fixed. 

He  was  only  forty-two  years  old,  but  the  flabby  flesh 


86  The  Leopard's  Spots 

under  his  eyes  and  his  enormous  square-cut  jaw  made 
him  look  fully  fifty. 

It  was  a  spectacle  for  gods  and  men,  to  see  him  ha- 
rangue that  Union  League  in  the  platitudes  of  loyalty  to 
the  Union,  and  to  watch  the  crowd  of  negroes  hang 
breathless  on  his  every  word  as  the  inspired  Gospel  of 
God.  The  only  notable  change  in  him  from  the  old  days 
was  in  his  speech.  He  had  hired  a  man  to  teach  him 
grammar  and  pronunciation.  He  had  high  ambitions  for 
the  future. 

"  Be  of  good  cheer,  beloved !  "  he  said  to  the  negroes. 
"  A  great  day  is  coming  for  you.  You  are  to  rule  this 
land.  Your  old  masters  are  to  dig  in  the  fields  and  you 
are  to  sit  under  the  shade  and  be  gentlemen.  Old  Andy 
Johnson  will  be  kicked  out  of  the  White  House  or  hung, 
and  the  farms  you've  worked  on  so  long  will  be  divided 
among  you.  You  can  rent  them  to  your  old  masters  and 
live  in  ease  the  balance  of  your  life.  " 

"  Glory  to  God !  "  shouted  an  old  negro. 

"  I  have  just  been  to  Washington  for  our  great  leader, 
Amos  Hogg.  I've  seen  Mr.  Sumner,  Mr.  Stevens  and 
Mr.  Butler.  I  have  shown  them  that  we  can  carry  any 
state  in  the  South,  if  they  will  only  give  you  the  ballot 
and  take  it  away  from  enough  rebels.  We  have  promised 
them  the  votes  in  the  Presidential  election,  and  they  are 
going  to  give  us  what  we  want.  " 

"  Hallelujah !  Amen !  Yas  Lawd !  "  The  fervent  ex- 
clamations came  from  every  part  of  the  room. 

After  the  meeting  the  negroes  pressed  around  Legree 
and  shook  his  hand  with  eagerness — the  same  hand  that 
was  red  with  the  blood  of  their  race. 

When  the  crowd  had  dispersed  a  meeting  of  the  lead- 
ers was  held. 

Dave  Haley,  the  ex-slave  trader  from  Kentucky  who 
had  dodged  back  and  forth  from  the  mountains  of  his 


Simon  Legrec  87 

native  state  to  the  mountains  of  Western  North  Caro- 
lina and  kept  out  of  the  armies,  was  there.  He  had  set- 
tled in  Hambright  and  hoped  at  least  to  get  the  post- 
office  under  the  new  dispensation. 

In  the  group  was  the  full  blooded  negro,  Tim  Shelby. 
He  had  belonged  to  the  Shelbys  of  Kentucky,  but  had 
escaped  through  Ohio  into  Canada  before  the  war.  He 
had  returned  home  with  great  expectations  of  revolutions 
to  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  victorious  armies  of  the 
North.  He  had  been  disappointed  in  the  programme  of 
kindliness  and  mercy  that  immediately  followed  the  fall 
of  the  Confederacy ;  but  he  had  been  busy  day  and  night 
since  the  war  in  organising  the  negroes,  in  secretly  fur- 
nishing them  arms  and  wherever  possible  he  had  them 
grouped  in  military  posts  and  regularly  drilled.  He  was 
elated  at  the  brilliant  prospects  which  Legree's  report 
from  Washington  opened. 

"  Glorious  news  you  bring  us,  brother ! "  he  exclaimed 
as  he  slapped  Legree  on  the  back. 

"  Yes,  and  it's  straight.  " 

"Did  Mr.  Stevens  tell  you  so?" 

"  He's  the  man  that  told  me." 

"  Well,  you  can  tie  to  him.  He's  the  master  now  that 
rules  the  country,"  said  Tim  with  enthusiasm. 

"  You  bet  he's  runnin'  it.  He  showed  me  his  bill  to 
confiscate  the  property  of  the  rebels  and  give  it  to  the 
truly  loyal  and  the  niggers.  It's  a  hummer.  You  ought 
to  have  seen  the  old  man's  eyes  flash  fire  when  he  pulled 
that  bill  out  of  his  desk  and  read  it  to  me." 

"When  will  he  pass  it?" 

"  Two  years,  yet.  He  told  me  the  fools  up  North  were 
not  quite  ready  for  it;  and  that  he  had  two  other  bills 
first,  that  would  run  the  South  crazy  and  so  fire  the  North 
that  he  could  pass  anything  he  wanted  and  hang  old  Andy 
Johnson  besides." 


88  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Praise  God,"  shouted  Tim,  as  he  threw  his  arms 
around  Legree  and  hugged  him. 

Tim  kept  his  kinky  hair  cut  close,  and  when  excited 
he  had  a  way  of  wrinkling  his  scalp  so  as  to  lift  his 
ears  up  and  down  like  a  mule.  His  lips  were  big  and 
thick,  and  he  combed  assiduously  a  tiny  moustache  which 
he  tried  in  vain  to  pull  out  in  straight  Napoleonic  style. 

He  worked  his  scalp  and  ears  vigourously  as  he 
exclaimed,  "  Tell  us  the  whole  plan,  brother !  " 

"  The  plan's  simple,"  said  Legree.  "  Mr.  Stevens  is 
going  to  give  the  nigger  the  ballot,  and  take  it  from 
enough  white  men  to  give  the  niggers  a  majority.  Then 
he  will  kick  old  Andy  Johnson  out  of  the  White  House, 
put  the  gag  en  the  Supreme  Court  so  the  South  can't 
appeal,  pass  his  bill  to  confiscate  the  property  of  the 
rebels  and  give  it  to  loyal  men  and  the  niggers,  and  run 
the  rebels  out." 

"  And  the  beauty  of  the  plan  is,"  said  Tim  with  unc- 
tion, "  that  they  are  going  to  allow  the  Negro  to  vote  to 
give  himself  the  ballot  and  not  allow  the  white  man  to 
vote  against  it.  That's  what  I  call  a  dead  sure  thing.  " 
Tim  drew  himself  up,  a  sardonic  grin  revealing  his  white 
teeth  from  ear  to  ear,  and  burst  into  an  impassioned  ha- 
rangue to  the  excited  group.  He  was  endowed  with 
native  eloquence,  and  had  graduated  from  a  college 
in  Canada  under  the  private  tutorship  of  its  pro- 
fessors. He  was  well  versed  in  English  History.  He 
could  hold  an  audience  of  negroes  spell  bound,  and  his 
audacity  commanded  the  attention  of  the  boldest  white 
man  who  heard  him. 

Legree,  Perkins  and  Haley  cheered  his  wild  utterances 
and  urged  him  to  greater  flights. 

He  paused  as  though  about  to  stop  when  Legree,  evi- 
dently surprised  and  delighted  at  his  powers  said,  "  Go 
on !  Go  on !  " 


Simon  Legree  89 

"  Yes,  go  on,"  shouted  Perkins.  "  We  are  done  with 
race  and  colour  lines." 

A  dreamy  look  came  to  Tim's  eyes  as  he  continued, 

"  Our  proud  white  aristocrats  of  the  South  are  in  a 
panic  it  seems.  They  fear  the  coming  power  of  the  Negro. 
They  fear  their  Desdemonas  may  be  fascinated  again  by 
an  Othello!  Well,  Othello's  day  has  come  at  last.  If 
he  has  dreamed  dreams  in  the  past  his  tongue  dared  not 
speak,  the  day  is  fast  coming  when  he  will  put  these 
dreams  into  deeds,  not  words. 

"  The  South  has  not  paid  the  penalties  of  her  crimes. 
The  work  of  the  conqueror  has  not  yet  been  done  in  this 
land.  Our  work  now  is  to  bring  the  proud  low  and  exalt 
the  lowly.  This  is  the  first  duty  of  the  conqueror. 

"  The  French  Revolutionists  established  a  tannery 
where  they  tanned  the  hides  of  dead  aristocrats  into 
leather  with  which  they  shod  the  common  people.  This 
was  France  in  the  eighteenth  century  with  a  thousand 
years  of  Christian  culture. 

"  When  the  English  army  conquered  Scotland  they 
hunted  and  killed  every  fugitive  to  a  man,  tore  from  the 
homes  of  their  fallen  foes  their  wives,  stripped  them 
naked,  and  made  them  follow  the  army  begging  bread, 
the  laughing  stock  and  sport  of  every  soldier  and  camp 
follower!  This  was  England  in  the  meridian  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  intellectual  glory,  the  England  of  Shakespeare  who 
was  writing  Othello  to  please  the  warlike  populace. 

"  I  say  to  my  people  now  in  the  language  of  the  in- 
spired Word,  '  All  things  are  yours ! '  I  have  been  drill- 
ing and  teaching  them  through  the  Union  League,  the 
young  and  the  old.  I  have  told  the  old  men  that  they 
will  be  just  as  useful  as  the  young.  If  they  can't  carry  a 
musket  they  can  apply  the  torch  when  the  time  comes. 
And  they  are  ready  now  to  answer  the  call  of  the  Lord !  " 

They  crowded  around  Tim  and  wrung  his  hand. 


9O  The  Leopard's  Spots 


Early  in  1867,  two  years  after  the  war,  Thaddeus 
Stevens  passed  through  Congress  his  famous  bill  de- 
stroying the  governments  of  the  Southern  states,  and  di- 
viding them  into  military  districts,  enfranchising  the 
whole  negro  race,  and  disfranchising  one-fourth  of  the 
whites.  The  army  was  sent  back  to  the  South  to  enforce 
these  decrees  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  The  authority 
of  the  Supreme  Court  was  destroyed  by  a  supplementary 
act  and  the  South  denied  the  right  of  appeal.  Mr. 
Stevens  then  introduced  his  bill  to  confiscate  the  property 
of  the  white  people  of  the  South.  The  negroes  laid 
down  their  hoes  and  plows  and  began  to  gather  in  ex- 
cited meetings.  Crimes  of  violence  increased  daily.  Not 
a  night  passed  but  that  a  burning  barn  or  home  wrote  its 
message  of  anarchy  on  the  black  sky. 

The  negroes  refused  to  sign  any  contracts  to  work,  to 
pay  rents,  or  vacate  their  houses  on  notice  even  from  the 
Freedman's  Bureau. 

The  negroes  on  General  Worth's  plantation,  not  only 
refused  to  work,  or  move,  but  organised  to  prevent  any 
white  man  from  putting  his  foot  on  the  land. 

General  Worth  procured  a  special  order  from  the  head- 
quarters of.  the  Freedman's  Bureau  for  the  district  lo- 
cated at  Independence.  When  the  officer  appeared  and 
attempted  to  serve  this  notice,  the  negroes  mobbed 
him. 

A  company  of  troops  were  ordered  to  Hambright,  and 
the  notice  served  again  by  the  Bureau  official  accompan- 
ied by  the  Captain  of  this  company. 

The  negroes  asked  for  time  to  hold  a  meeting  and  dis- 
cuss the  question.  They  held  their  meeting  and  gathered 
fully  five  hundred  men  from  the  neighbourhood,  all  armed 
with  revolvers  or  muskets.  They  asked  Legree  and  Tim 
Shelby  to  tell  them  what  they  should  do.  There  was  no 


Simon  Legree  91 

uncertain  sound  in  what  Legree  said.    He  looked  over  the 
crowd  of  eager  faces  with  pride  and  conscious  power. 

"  Gentlemen,  your  duty  is  plain.  Hold  your  land.  It's 
yours.  You've  worked  it  for  a  lifetime.  These  officers 
here  tell  you  that  old  Andy  Johnson  has  pardoned  General 
Worth  and  that  you  have  no  rights  on  the  land  without 
his  contract.  I  tell  you  old  Andy  Johnson  has  no  right 
to  pardon  a  rebel,  and  that  he  will  be  hung  before  another 
year.  Thaddeus  Stevens,  Charles  Sumner  and  B.  F. 
Butler  are  running  this  country.  Mr.  Stevens  has  never 
failed  yet  on  anything  he  has  set  his  hand.  He  has  prom- 
ised to  give  you  the  land.  Stick  to  it.  Shake  your  fist 
in  old  Andy  Johnson's  face  and  the  face  of  this  Bureau 
and  tell  them  so.  " 

"  Dat  we  will ! "  shouted  a  negro  woman,  as  Tim 
Shelby  rose  to  speak. 

"  You  have  suffered,"  said  Tim.  "  Now  let  the  white 
man  suffer.  Times  have  changed.  In  the  old  days  the 
white  man  said, 

"  John,  come  black  my  boots !  " 

"  And  the  poor  negro  had  to  black  his  boots.  I  expect 
to  see  the  day  when  I  will  say  to  a  white  man,  "  Black  my 
boots !  "  And  the  white  man  will  tip  his  hat  and  hurry 
to  do  what  I  tell  him.  " 

"  Yes,  Lawd !    Glory  to  God !    Hear  dat  now !  " 

"  We  will  drive  the  white  men  out  of  this  country. 
That  is  the  purpose  of  our  friends  at  Washington. 
If  white  men  want  to  live  in  the  South  they  can  become 
our  servants.  If  they  don't  like  their  job  they  can  move 
to  a  more  congenial  climate.  You  have  Congress  on 
your  side,  backed  by  a  million  bayonets.  There  is  no 
President.  The  Supreme  Court  is  chained.  In  San  Do- 
mingo no  white  man  is  allowed  to  vote,  hold  office,  or 
hold  a  foot  of  land.  We  will  make  this  mighty  South  a 
more  glorious  San  Domingo.  " 


92  The  Leopard's  Spots 

A  frenzied  shout  rent  the  air.  Tim  and  Legree  were 
carried  on  the  shoulders  of  stalwart  men  in  triumphant 
procession  with  five  hundred  crazy  negroes  yelling  and 
screaming  at  their  heels. 

The  officers  made  their  escape  in  the  confusion  and 
beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  town.  They  reported  the  situation 
to  headquarters,  and  asked  for  instructions. 


CHAPTER  XII 
RED  SNOW  DROPS 

THE  spirit  of  anarchy  was  in  the  tainted  air.  The 
bonds  that  held  society  were  loosened.  Gov- 
ernment threatened  to  become  organised  crime 
instead  of  the  organised  virtue  of  the  community. 

The  report  of  crimes  of  unusual  horror  among  the 
ignorant  and  the  vicious  began  now  to  startle  the  world. 

The  Rev.  John  Durham  on  his  rounds  among  the  poor 
discovered  a  little  negro  boy  whom  the  parents  had  aban- 
doned to  starve.  His  father  had  become  a  drunken  loafer 
at  Independence  and  the  Freedman's  Bureau  delivered 
the  child  to  his  mother  and  her  sister  who  lived  in  a 
cabin  about  two  miles  from  Hambright,  and  ordered  them 
to  care  for  the  boy. 

A  few  days  later  the  child  had  disappeared.  A  search 
was  instituted,  and  the  charred  bones  were  found  in  an 
old  ash  heap  in  the  woods  near  this  cabin.  The  mother 
had  knocked  him  in  the  head  and  burned  the  body  in  a 
drunken  orgie  with  dissolute  companions. 

The  sense  of  impending  disaster  crushed  the  hearts  of 
thoughtful  and  serious  people.  One -of  the  last  acts  of 
Governor  Macon,  whose  office  was  now  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  military  commandant  at  Charleston,  South 
Carolina,  was  to  issue  a  proclamation,  appointing  a  day 
of  fasting  and  prayer  to  God  for  deliverance  from  the 
ruin  that  threatened  the  state  under  the  dominion  of 
Legree  and  the  negroes. 

It  was  a  memorable  day  in  the  history  of  the  people. 

03 


£4  The  Leopard's  Spots 

In  many  places  they  met  in  the  churches  the  night  before, 
and  held  all-night  watches  and  prayer  meetings.  They 
felt  that  a  pestilence  worse  than  the  Black.  Death  of  the 
Middle  Ages  threatened  to  extinguish  civilisation. 

The  Baptist  church  at  Hambright  was  crowded 
to  the  doors  with  white-faced  women  and  sorrowful 
men. 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  pale  and  haggard 
from  a  sleepless  night  of  prayer  and  thought,  the  Preacher 
arose  to  address  the  people.  The  hush  of  death  fell  as  he 
gazed  silently  over  the  audience  for  a  moment.  How 
pale  his  face!  They  had  never  seen  him  so  moved  with 
passions  that  stirred  his  inmost  soul.  His  first  words 
were  addressed  to  God.  He  did  not  seem  to  see  the  people 
before  him. 

"  Lord,  Thou  hast  been  our  dwelling  place  in  all  gen- 
erations. 

"  Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth  or  ever 
Thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from 
everlasting  to  everlasting  Thou  art  God !  " 

The  people  instinctively  bowed  their  heads,  fired  by  the 
subtle  quality  of  intense  emotion  the  tones  of  his  voice 
communicated,  and  many  of  the  people  were  already  in 
tears. 

"  Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction :  and  sayest,  return, 
ye  children  of  men." 

"  Who  knowest  the  power  of  thine  anger  ?  " 

"Return,  O  Lord,  how  long?  and  let  it  repent  Thee 
concerning  Thy  servants." 

"  Beloved,"  he  continued,  "  it  was  permitted  unto 
your  fathers  and  brothers  and  children  to  die  for  their 
country.  You  must  live  for  her  in  the  black  hour  of 
despair.  There  will  be  no  roar  of  guns,  no  long  lines 
of  gleaming  bayonets,  no  flash  of  pageantry  or  martial 
music  to  stir  your  souls. 


Red  Snow  Drops  95 

"  You  are  called  to  go  down,  man  by  man,  alone,  naked 
and  unarmed  in  the  blackness  of  night  and  fight  with  the 
powers  of  hell  for  your  civilisation. 

"  You  must  look  this  question  squarely  in  the  face. 
You  are  to  be  put  to  the  supreme  test.  You  are  to  stand 
at  the  judgment  bar  of  the  ages  and  make  good  your 
right  to  life.  The  attempt  is  to  be  deliberately  made  to 
blot  out  Anglo-Saxon  society  and  substitute  African  bar- 
barism. 

"  A  few  years  ago  a  Southern  Representative  in  a 
stupid  rage  knocked  Charles  Sumner  down  with  a  cane 
and  cracked  his  skull.  Now  it  is  this  poor  cracked  brain, 
mad  with  hate  and  revenge,  tfiat  is  attempting  to  blot  the 
Southern  states  from  the  map  of  the  world  and  build 
Negro  territories  on  their  ruins.  In  the  madness  of  party 
passions,  for  the  first  time  in  history,  an  anarchist,  Thad- 
deus  Stevens,  has  obtained  the  dictatorship  of  a  great 
Constitutional  Government,  hauled  down  its  flag  and 
nailed  the  Black  Flag  of  Confiscation  and  Revenge  to  its 
masthead. 

"  The  excuse  given  for  this,  that  the  lawmakers  of  the 
South  attempted  to  reinslave  the  Negro  by  their  enact- 
ments against  vagrants  and  provisions  for  apprenticeship, 
is  so  weak  a  lie,  it  will  not  deserve  the  notice  of  a  future 
historian.  Every  law  passed  on  these  subjects  since  the 
abolition  of  slavery  was  simply  copied  from  the  codes  of 
the  Northern  states  where  free  labour  was  the  basis  of 
society.  . 

"  Lincoln  alone,  with  his  great  human  heart  and  broad 
statesmanship  could  have  saved  us.  But  the  South  had 
no  luck.  Again  and  again  in  the  war,  victory  was  within 
her  grasp,  and  an  unseen  hand  snatched  it  away.  In  the 
hour  of  her  defeat  the  bullet  of  a  madman  strikes  down 
the  great  President,  her  last  refuge  in  ruin! 

"  God  alone  is  our  help.    Let  us  hold  fast  to  our  faith 


9$  The  Leopard's  Spots 

in  Him.  We  can  only  cry  with  aching  hearts  in  the 
language  of  the  Psalmist  of  old,  '  How  long,  O  Lord  ? 
how  long ! ' 

"  The  voices  of  three  men  now  fill  the  world  with  their 
bluster — Charles  Sumner,  a  crack-brained  theorist ;  Thad- 
deus  Stevens,  a  club  footed  misanthrope,  and  B.  F.  Butler, 
a  triumvirate  of  physical  and  mental  deformity.  Yet 
they  are  but  the  cracked  reeds  of  a  great  organ  that  peals 
forth  the  discord  of  a  nation's  blind  rage.  When  the 
storm  is  past,  and  reason  rules  passion,  they  will  be  flung 
into  oblivion.  We  must  bend  to  the  storm.  It  is  God's 
will." 

The  people  left  the  church  with  heavy  hearts.  They 
were  hopelessly  depressed.  In  'the  afternoon,  as  the 
churches  were  being  slowly  emptied,  groups  of  negroes 
stood  on  the  corners  talking  loudly  and  discussing 
the  meaning  of  this  new  Sunday  so  strangely  observed. 
It  began  to  snow.  It  was  late  in  March  and  this  was 
an  unusual  phenomenon  in  the  South. 

The  next  morning  the  earth  was  covered  with  four 
inches  of  snow,  that  glistened  in  the  sun  with  a  strange 
reddish  hue.  On  examination  it  was  found  that  every 
snow  drop  had  in  it  a  tiny  red  spot  that  looked  like  a 
drop  of  blood !  Nothing  of  the  kind  had  ever  been  seen 
before  in  the  history  of  the  world,  so  far  as  any  one 
knew. 

This  freak  of  nature  seemed  a  harbinger  of  sure  and 
terrible  calamity.  Even  the  most  cultured  and  thought- 
ful could  not  shake  off  the  impression  it  made. 

The  Preacher  did  his  best  to  cheer  the  people  in  his 
daily  intercourse  with  them.  His  Sunday  sermons 
seemed  in  these  darkest  days  unusually  tender  and  hope- 
ful. It  was  a  marvel  to  those  who  heard  his  bitter  and 
sorrowful  speech  on  the  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  that 
he  could  preach  such  sermons  as  those  which  followed. 


Red  Snow  Drops  97 

Occasionally  old  Uncle  Joshua  Miller  would  ask  him  to 
preach  for  the  negroes  in  their  new  church  on  Sun- 
day afternoons.  He  always  went,  hoping  to  keep  some 
sort  of  helpful  influence  over  them  in  spite  of  their  new 
leaders  and  teachers.  It  was  strange  to  watch  this  man 
shake  hands  with  these  negroes,  call  them  familiarly  by 
their  names,  ask  kindly  after  their  families,  and  yet  carry 
in  his  heart  the  presage  of  a  coming  irreconcilable  conflict. 
For  no  one  knew  more  clearly  than  he,  that  the  issues 
were  being  joined  from  the  deadly  grip  of  that  con- 
flict of  races  that  would  determine  whether  this  Republic 
would  be  Mulatto  or  Anglo-Saxon.  Yet  at  heart  he  had 
only  the  kindliest  feelings  for  these  familiar  dusky  faces 
now  rising  a  black  storm  above  the  horizon,  threatening 
the  existence  of  civilised  society,  under  the  leadership 
of  Simon  Legree,  and  Mr.  Stevens. 

It  seemed  a  joke  sometimes  as  he  thought  of  it,  a  huge, 
preposterous  joke,  this  actual  attempt  to  reverse  the  order 
of  nature,  turn  society  upside  down,  and  make  a  thick- 
lipped,  flat-nosed  negro  but  yesterday  taken  from  the 
jungle,  the  ruler  of  the  proudest  and  strongest*  race  of 
men  evolved  in  two  thousand  years  of  history.  Yet  when 
he  remembered  the  fierce  passions  in  the  hearts  of  the 
demagogues  who  were  experimenting  with  this  social  dy- 
namite, it  was  a  joke  that  took  on  a  hellish,  sinister 
meaning. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
DICK 

WHEN  Charlie  Gaston  reached  his  home  after  a 
never-to-be-forgotten  day  in  the  woods  with 
the  Preacher,  he  found  a  ragged  little  dirt- 
smeared  negro  boy  peeping  through  the  fence  into  the 
woodyard. 

"What  you  want?"  cried  Charlie. 

"  Nuttin !  " 

"What's  your  name?" 

"Dick."   ' 

"Who's  your  father?" 

"  Haint  got  none.     My  mudder  say  she  was  tricked, 
en  I'se  de  trick !  "  he  chuckled  and  walled  his  eyes. 

Charlie  came  close  and  looked  him  over.    Dick  giggled 
and  showed  the  whites  of  his  eyes. 

"  What  made  that  streak  on  your  neck  ?  " 

"  Nigger  done  it  wid  er  axe." 

"What  nigger?" 

"  Low  life  nigger  name  er  Amos  what  stays  roun'  our 
house  Sundays." 

"What  made  him  do  it?" 

"  He  low  he  wuz  me  daddy,  en  I  sez  he  wuz  er  liar,  en 
den  he  grab  de  axe  en  try  ter  chop  me  head  off." 

"  Gracious,  he  'most  killed  you !  " 

"  Yassir,  but  de  doctor  sewed  me  head  back,  en  hit 
grow'd." 

"Goodness  me!" 

98 


Dick  99 

"Say!"  grinned  Dick. 

"What?" 

"  I  likes  you." 

"Do  you?" 

"  Yassir,  en  I  aint  gwine  home  no  mo*.  I  done  run 
away,  en  I  wants  ter  live  wid  you." 

"  Will  you  help  me  and  Nelse  work  ?  " 

"  Dat  I  will.  I  can  do  mos'  anyting.  You  ax  yer  Ma 
fur  me,  en  doan  let  dat  nigger  Nelse  git  holt  er  me." 

Charlie's  heart  went  out  to  the  ragged  little  waif.  He 
took  him  by  the  hand,  led  him  into  the  yard,  found 
his  mother,  and  begged  her  to  give  him  a  place  to  sleep 
and  keep  him. 

His  mother  tried  to  persuade  him  to  make  Dick  go  back 
to  his  own  home.  Nelse  was  loud  in  his  objections  to  the 
new  comer,  and  Aunt  Eve  looked  at  him  as  though  she 
would  throw  him  over  the  fence. 

But  Dick  stuck  doggedly  to  Charlie's  heels. 

"  Mama  dear,  see,  they  tried  to  cut  his  head  off  with  an 
axe,"  cried  the  boy,  and  he  wheeled  Dick  around  and 
showed  the  terrible  scar  across  the  back  of  his  neck. 

"  I  spec  hits  er  pity  dey  didn't  cut  hit  clean  off,"  mut- 
tered Nelse. 

"  Mama,  you  can't  send  him  back  to  be  killed !  " 

"  Well,  darling,  I'll  see  about  it  to-morrow." 

"  Come  on  Dick,  I'll  show  you  where  to  sleep !  " 

The  next  day  Dick's  mother  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  him 
by  binding  him  legally  to  Mrs.  Gaston,  and  a  lonely  boy 
found  a  playmate  and  partner  in  work,  he  was  never  to 
forget. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  NEGRO  UPRISING 

THE  summer  of  1867!  Will  ever  a  Southern  man 
or  woman  who  saw  it  forget  its  scenes?  A 
group  of  oath-bound  secret  societies,  The  Union 
League,  The  Heroes  of  America,  and  The  Red  Strings 
dominating  society,  and  marauding  bands  of  negroes 
armed  to  the  teeth  terrorising  the  country,  stealing,  burn- 
ing and  murdering. 

Labour  was  not  only  demoralised,  it  had  ceased  to  exist 
Depression  was  universal,  farming  paralysed,  invest- 
ments dead,  and  all  property  insecure.  Moral  obligations 
were  dropping  away  from  conduct,  and  a  gulf  as  deep  as 
hell  and  high  as  heaven  opening  between  the  two  races. 

The  negro  preachers  openly  instructed  their  flocks  to 
take  what  they  needed  from  their  white  neighbours. 
If  any  man  dared  prosecute  a  thief,  the  answer  was  a 
burned  barn  or  a  home  in  ashes. 

The  wildest  passions  held  riot  at  Washington.  The 
Congress  of  the  United  States  as  a  deliberative  body 
under  constitutional  forms  of  government  no  longer  ex- 
isted. The  Speaker  of  the  House  shook  his  fist  at  the 
President  and  threatened  openly  to  hang  him,  and  he 
was  arraigned  for  impeachment  for  daring  to  exercise 
the  constitutional  functions  of  his  office ! 

The  division  agents  of  the  Freedman's  Bureau  in  the 
South  sent  to  Washington  the  most  alarming  reports, 
declaring  a  famine  imminent.  In  reply  the  vindictive 
leaders  levied  a  tax  of  fifteen  dollars  a  bale  on  cotton, 

100 


The  Negro  Uprising  101 

plunging  thousands  of  Southern  farmers  into  immediate 
bankruptcy  and  giving  to  India  and  Egypt  the  mastery 
of  the  cotton  markets  of  the  world! 

Congress  became  to  the  desolate  South  what  Attila,  the 
"  Scourge  of  God  "  was  to  civilised  Europe. 

The  Abolitionists  of  the  North,  whose  conscience  was 
the  fire  that  kindled  the  Civil  War,  rose  in  solemn  pro- 
test against  this  insanity.  Their  protest  was  drowned 
in  the  roar  of  multitudes  maddened  by  demagogues  who 
were  preparing  for  a  political  campaign. 

Late  in  August  Hambright  and  Campbell  county  were 
thrilled  with  horror  at  the  report  of  a  terrible  crime.  A 
whole  white  family  had  been  murdered  in  their  home, 
the  father,  mother  and  three  children  in  one  night,  and 
no  clue  to  the  murderers  could  be  found. 

Two  days  later  the  rumour  spread  over  the  country  that 
a  horde  of  negroes  heavily  armed  were  approaching 
Hambright  burning,  pillaging  and  murdering. 

All  day  terrified  women,  some  walking  with  babes  in 
their  arms,  some  riding  in  old  wagons  and  carrying  what 
household  goods  they  could  load  on  them,  were  hurry- 
ing with  blanched  faces  into  the  town. 

By  night  five  hundred  determined  white  men  had 
answered  an  alarm  bell  and  assembled  in  the  court  house. 
Every  negro  save  a  few  faithful  servants  had  disappeared. 
A  strange  stillness  fell  over  the  village. 

Mrs.  Gaston  sat  in  her  house  without  a  light,  looking 
anxiously  out  of  the  window,  overwhelmed  with  the  sense 
of  helplessness.  Charlie,  frightened  by  the  wild  stories 
he  had  heard,  was  trying  in  spite  of  his  fears  to  comfort 
her. 

"Don't  cry,  Mama!" 

"  I'm  not  crying  because  I'm  afraid,  darling,  I'm  only 
crying  because  your  father  is  not  here  to-night.  I  can't 
get  used  to  living  without  him  to  protect  us." 


102  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I'll  take  care  of  you,  Mama — Nelse  and  me." 

"Where  is  Nelse?" 

"  He's  cleaning  up  the  shot  gun." 

"  Tell  him  to  come  here." 

When  Nelse  approached  his  Mistress  asked, 

"  Nelse,  do  you  really  think  this  tale  is  true  ?  " 

"  No,  Missy,  I  doan  believe  nary  word  uf  it.  Same 
time  I'se  gettin'  ready  fur  'em.  Ef  er  nigger  come  foolin' 
roun'  dis  house  ter  night,  he'll  t'ink  he's  run  ergin  er 
whole  regiment !  I  hain't  been  ter  wah  fur  nuttin'." 

"  Nelse,  you  have  always  been  faithful.  I  trust  you 
implicitly." 

"  De  Lawd,  Missy,  dat  you  kin  do !  I  fight  fur  you 
en  dat  boy  till  I  drap  dead  in  my  tracks ! " 

"  I  believe  you  would.  " 

"  Yessum,  cose  I  would.  En  I  wants  dat  swo'de  er 
Marse  Charles  to-night,  Missy,  en  Charlie  ter  help  me 
sharpen  'im  on  de  grine  stone." 

She  took  the  sword  from  its  place  and  handed  it  to 
Nelse.  Was  there  just  a  shade  of  doubt  in  her  heart  as 
she  saw  his  black  hand  close  over  its  hilt  as  he  drew 
it  from  the  scabbard  and  felt  its  edge !  If  so  she  gave  no 
sign. 

Charlie  turned  the  grindstone  while  Nelse  proceeded 
to  violate  the  laws  of  nations  by  putting  a  keen  edge 
on  the  blade. 

"  Nebber  seed  no  sense  in  dese  dull  swodes  nohow ! " 

"Why  ain't  they  sharp,  Nelse?" 

"  Doan  know,  honey.  Marse  Charles  tell  me  de  law 
doan  'low  it,  but  dey  sho  hain't  no  law  now ! " 

"  We'll  sharpen  it,  won't  we,  Nelse  ?  "  whispered  the 
boy  as  he  turned  faster. 

"  Dat  us  will,  honey.  En  den  you  des  watch  me  mow 
niggers  ef  dey  come  er  prowlin'  round  dis  house !  " 

"  Did  you  kill  many  Yankees  in  the  war,  Nelse  ?  " 


The  Negro  Uprising  103 

"  Doan  know,  honey,  spec  I  did." 
"  Are  you  going  to  take  the  gun  or  the  sword  ?  " 
"  Bofe  um  'em  chile.     I'se  gwine  ter  shoot  er  pair 
er  niggers  fust,  en  den  charge  de  whole  gang  wid  dis 
swode.     Hain't  nuttin'  er  nigger's  feard  uf  lak  er  keen 
edge.     Wish  ter  God  I  had  a  razer  long  es  dis  swode! 
I'd  des  walk  clean  froo  er  whole  army  er  niggers  wid 
guns.     Man,  hit  'ud  des  natchelly  be  er  sight!     Day'd 
slam   dem  guns   down   en  bust   demselves   open  gittin' 
outen  my  way !  " 

When  the  sun  rose  next  morning  the  bodies  of  ten 
negroes  lay  dead  and  wounded  in  the  road  about  a  mile 
outside  of  town.  The  pickets  thrown  out  in  every  di- 
rection had  discovered  their  approach  about  eleven  o'clock. 
They  were  allowed  to  advance  within  a  mile.  There 
were  not  more  than  two  hundred  in  the  gang,  dozens  of 
them  were  drunk,  and  like  the  Sepoys  of  India,  they 
were  under  the  command  of  a  white  Scalawag.  At  the 
first  volley  they  broke  and  fled  in  wild  disorder.  Their 
leader  managed  to  escape. 

This  event  cleared  the  atmosphere  for  a  few  weeks ;  and 
the  people  breathed  more  freely  when  another  company 
of  army  regulars  marched  into  the  town  and  camped  in 
the  school  grounds  of  the  old  academy. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  NEW  CITIZEN  KING 

OF  all  the  elections  ever  conducted  by  the  English 
speaking  race  the  one  held  under  the  "  Recon- 
struction "  act  of  1867  in  the  South  was  the 
most  unique. 

Ezra  Perkins  the  agent  of  the  Freedman's  Bureau 
issued  a  windy  proclamation  to  the  new  citizens  to  come 
forward  on  a  certain  day  to  register  and  receive  their 
'  elective  franchise.' 

The  negroes  poured  into  town  from  every  direction 
from  early  dawn.  Some  carried  baskets,  some  carried 
jugs,  and  some  were  pushing  wheelbarrows,  but  most  of 
them  had  an  empty  bag.  They  were  packed  around  the 
Agency  in  a  solid  black  mass. 

Nelse  laughed  until  a  crowd  gathered  around  him. 

"  Lordy,  look  at  dem  bags !  "  he  shouted.     "  En  dars 
ole  Ike  wid  er  jug.,    He's  gwine  ter  take  hisen  in  licker. 
En  bress  God  dars  er  fool  wid  er  wheel-barer ! "     Nelse 
lay  down  and  rolled  with  laughter. 

They  failed  to  see  the  joke,  and  when  the  Agency 
was  opened  they  made  a  break  for  the  door,  trampling 
each  other  down  in  a  mad  fear  that  there  wouldn't  be 
enough  '  elective  franchise  '  to  go  round ! 

The  first  negro  who  emerged  from  the  door  came 
with  a  crestfallen  face  and  an  empty  bag  on  his  arm. 

He  was  surrounded  by  anxious  inquirers.  "  What  wuz 
hit?" 

104 


The  New  Citizen  King  105 

"  Muffin.  Des  stan  up  dar  befo'  er  man  wid  big 
whiskers  en  he  make  me  swar  ter  export  de  Constertu- 
tion  er  de  Nunited  States  er  Nor'f  Calliny. 

When  Nelse  appeared  Perkins  looked  at  him  a  moment 
and  asked, 

"  Are  you  a  member  of  the  Union  League  ?  " 

"  Dat  I  hain't." 

"  Then  stand  aside  and  let  these  men  register.  If  you 
want  to  vote  you  had  better  join." 

Nelse  made  no  reply,  but  in  a  short  time  he  returned 
with  the  Rev.  John  Durham  by  his  side.  He  was  al- 
lowed to  register,  but  from  that  day  he  was  a  marked 
man  among  his  race. 

When  the  registration  closed  Perkins  was  in  high  glee. 

"  We've  got  'em,  Timothy !  It's  a  dead  sure  thing !  " 
he  cried  as  he  slipped  his  arm  around  Tim's  shoulder. 

"  Will  the  majority  be  big?  "  asked  Tim. 

"  If  it  ain't  big  enough  we'll  disfranchise  more  aristo- 
crats and  enfranchise  the  dogs.  "  Tim  wondered  whether 
this  proposition  was  altogether  flattering. 

During  the  progress  of  the  campaign,  a  committee 
from  the  organisation  of  the  "  truly  loyal,"  Ezra  Perkins 
and  Dave  Haley,  called  on  Tom  Camp. 

"  Mr.  Camp,  we  want  your  help  as  a  leader  among  the 
poor  white  people  to  save  the  country  from  these  rebel 
aristocrats  who  have  ruined  it,"  said  Ezra. 

"  You're  barkin'  up  the  wrong  tree !  "  answered  Tom 
dryly. 

"  The  poor  men  have  got  to  stand  together  now  and 
get  their  rights." 

"  Well  if  I've  got  to  stand  with  niggers,  have  'em  hug 
me  and  blow  their  breath  in  my  face,  as  you  fellers  are 
doin',  you  can  count  me  out ! — and  if  that's  all  you  want 
with  me,  you'll  find  the  door  open." 

Haley  tried  his  hand. 


106  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Look  here,  Camp,  we  ain't  got  no  hard  feelin's  agin 
you,  but  there's  agoin'  to  be  trouble  for  every  rebel  in 
this  county  who  don't  git  on  our  side  and  do  it  quick." 

"  I'm  used  to  trouble  pardner,"  replied  Tom. 

"  You've  got  a  nice  little  cabin  home  and  ten  acres  of 
land.  Fight  us,  and  we  will  give  this  house  and  lot  to 
a  nigger." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  cried  Tom. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Perkins,  "  you're  not  fool  enough 
to  fight  us  when  we've  got  a  dead  sure  thing,  a  majority 
fixed  before  the  voting  begins,  Congress  and  the  whole 
army  back  of  us  ?  " 

*  I  ain't  er  nigger !  "  said  Tom,  doggedly. 

"What's  the  use  to  be  a  fool  Camp,"  cried  Haley. 
"  We  are  just  using  the  nigger  to  stick  the  votes  in  the 
box.  He  thinks  he's  goin'  to  heaven,  but  we'll  ride  him 
all  the  way  up  to  the  gate  and  hitch  him  on  the  outside. 
Will  you  come  in  with  us  ?  " 

"  Don't  like  your  complexion ! "  he  answered  rising 
and  going  toward  the  door. 

"  Then  we'll  turn  you  out  into  the  road  in  less  than 
two  years,"  said  Haley  as  they  left. 

"  All  right !  "  laughed  the  old  soldier,  "  I  slept  on  the 
ground  four  years,  boys." 

When  he  came  back  into  the  room  he  met  his  wife  with 
tears  in  her  eyes.  "  Oh !  Tom,  I'm  afraid  they'll  do  what 
they  say." 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  ole  woman,  I'm  afraid  so  too. 
But  we're  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord.  This  is  His  house. 
If  He  wants  to  take  it  away  from  me  now  when  I'm 
crippled  and  helpless,  He  knows  what's  best." 

"  I  wish  you  didn't  have  to  go  agin  Jem." 

"  I  ain't  er  nigger,  ole  gal,  and  I  don't  flock  with 
niggers.  If  God  Almighty  had  meant  me  to  be  one  He'd 
have  made  my  skin  black.  " 


The  New  Citizen  King  107 

On  election  day  no  publication  of  the  polling  places 
had  been  made.  Ezra  Perkins  had  in  charge  the  whole 
county.  He  consolidated  the  fifteen  voting  precincts 
into  three  and  located  these  in  negro  districts.  He  noti- 
fied only  the  members  of  the  secret  Leagues  where  these 
three  voting  places  were  to  be  found,  and  other  people 
were  allowed  to  find  them  on  the  day  of  the  election  as 
best  they  could. 

Perkins  made  himself  the  poll  holder  at  Hambright 
though  he  was  a  candidate  for  member  of  the  Constitu- 
tional Convention,  and  the  poll  holders  were  allowed  to 
keep  the  ballots  in  their  possession  for  three  days  before 
forwarding  to  the  General  in  command  at  Charleston, 
South  Carolina. 

Scores  of  negroes,  under  the  instructions  of  their  lead- 
ers, voted  three  times  that  day.  Every  negro  boy  fairly 
well  grown  was  allowed  to  vote  and  no  questions  asked 
as  to  his  age. 

Nelse  approached  the  polls  attempting  to  cast  a  vote 
against  the  Rev.  Ezra  Perkins  the  poll  holder.  A  crowd 
of  infuriated  negroes  surrounded  him  in  a  moment. 

"  Kill  'im  !  Knock  'im  in  the  head !  De  black  debbil, 
votin'  agin  his  colour !  " 

Nelse  threw  his  big  fists  right  and  left  and  soon  had  an 
open  space  in  the  edge  of  which  lay  a  half  dozen  negroes 
scrambling  to  get  to  their  feet. 

The  negroes  formed  a  line  in  front  of  him  and  the 
foremost  one  said, 

"  You  try  ter  put  dat  vote  in  de  box  we  bust  yo  head 
open ! " 

Nelse  knocked  him  down  before  he  got  the  words 
well  out  of  him  mouth.  "  Honey,  I'se  er  bad  nigger !  " 
he  shouted  with  a  grin  as  he  stepped  back  and  started  to 
rush  the  line. 

Perkins  ordered  the  guard  to  arrest  him. 


io8  The  Leopard's  Spots 

As  the  guard  carried  Nelse  away  a  crowd  of  angry 
negroes  followed  grinning  and  cursing. 

"  We  lay  fur  you  yit,  ole  hoss ! "  was  their  parting 
word  as  he  disappeared  through  the  jail  door. 

That  night  at  the  supper  table  in  the  hotel  at  Ham- 
bright  an  informal  census  of  the  voters  was  taken.  There 
were  present  at  the  table  a  distinguished  ex- judge,  two 
lawyers,  a  General,  two  clergymen,  a  merchant,  a  farmer, 
and  two  mechanics.  The  only  man  of  all  allowed  to 
vote  that  day  was  the  negro  who  waited  on  the  table. 

Thus  began  the  era  of  a  corrupt  and  degraded  ballot 
in  the  South  that  was  to  bring  forth  sorrow  for  genera- 
tions yet  unborn.  The  intelligence,  culture,  wealth,  social 
prestige,  brains,  conscience  and  the  historic  institutions 
of  a  great  state  had  been  thrust  under  the  hoof  of  ig- 
norance and  vice. 

The  votes  were  sent  to  the  military  commandant  at 
Charleston  and  the  results  announced.  The  negroes  had 
elected  no  representatives  and  the  whites  10.  It  was 
gravely  announced  from  Washington  that  a  "  republican 
form  of  government "  had  at  last  been  established  in 
North  Carolina* 


CHAPTER  XVI 
LEGREE  SPEAKER  OF  THE  HOUSE 

THE  new  government  was  now  in  full  swing  and 
a  saturnalia  began.    Amos  Hogg  was  Governor, 
Simon  Legree  Speaker  of  the  House,  and  the 
Hon.  Tim  Shelby  leader  of  the  majority  on  the  floor 
of  the  House. 

Raleigh,  the  quaint  little  City  of  Oaks,  never  saw  such 
an  assemblage  of  law-makers  gather  in  the  grey  stone 
Capitol. 

Ezra  Perkins,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Senate, 
was  frugal  in  his  habits  and  found  lodgings  at 
an  unpretentious  boarding  house  near  the  Capitol  square. 

The  room  was  furnished  with  six  iron  cots  on  which 
were  placed  straw  mattresses  and  six  honourable  mem- 
bers of  the  new  Legislature  occupied  these.  They  were 
close  enough  together  to  allow  a  bottle  of  whiskey  to 
be  freely  passed  from  member  to  member  at  any  hour 
of  the  night.  They  thought  the  beds  were  arranged  with 
this  in  view  and  were  much  pleased. 

Ezra  was  the  only  man  of  the  crowd  who  arrived  in 
Raleigh  with  a  valise  or  trunk.  He  had  a  carpet  bag. 
The  others  simply  had  one  shirt  and  a  few  odds  and 
ends  tied  in  red  bandana  handkerchiefs. 

Three  of  them  had  walked  all  the  way  to  Raleigh  and 
kept  in  the  woods  from  habit  as  deserters.  The  other 
two  rode  on  the  train  and  handed  their  tickets  to  the 
first  stranger  they  saw  on  the  platform  of  the  car  they 
boarded. 

109 


HO  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  What's  this  for !  "  said  the  stranger. 

"Them's  our  tickets.    Ain't  you  the  door  keeper?" 

"  No,  but  there  ought  to  be  one  to  every  circus.  You'll 
have  one  when  you  get  to  Raleigh." 

The  landlady,  Mrs.  Duke,  apologised  for  the  poor  beds, 
when  she  showed  them  to  their  room.  "  I'm  sorry,  gentle- 
men, I  can't  give  you  softer  beds." 

"  That's  all  right  M'am !  them's  fine.  Us  fellows  been 
sleeping  in  the  woods  and  in  straw  stacks  so  long  dodgin' 
ole  Vance's  officers,  them  white  sheets  is  the  finest  thing 
we've  seed  in  four  years,  er  more." 

They  were  humble  and  made  no  complaints.  But  at 
the  end  of  the  week  they  gathered  around  the  Rev.  Ezra 
Perkins  for  a  grave  consultation. 

"  When  are  we  goin'  ter  draw  ?  "  said  one. 

"  Air  we  ever  goin'  ter  draw  ? "  asked  another  with 
sorrow  and  doubt. 

"  What  are  we  here  f er  ef  we  cain't  draw  ?  "  pleaded 
another  looking  sadly  at  Ezra. 

"  Gentlemen,"  answered  Ezra,  "  it  will  be  all  right  in  a 
little  while.  The  Treasurer  is  just  cranky.  We  can 
draw  our  mileage  Monday  anyhow." 

At  daylight  they  took  their  places  on  the  bank's  steps, 
and  at  ten  o'clock  when  the  bank  opened,  the  doors  were 
besieged  by  a  mob  of  members  painfully  anxious  to  draw 
before  it  might  be  too  late. 

Next  morning  there  was  a  disturbance  at  the  breakfast 
table.  The  morning  paper  had  in  blazing  head  lines  an 
account  of  one  James  "  Mileage,"  who  was  a  member  of 
the  Legislature  from  an  adjoining  county  thirty-seven 
miles  distant.  He  had  sworn  to  a  mileage  record  of  one 
hundred  and  seven  dollars. 

"  That's  an  unfortunate  mistake,  sir,"  said  Perkins. 

"  Ten'  ter  yer  own  business  ?  "  answered  James  "  Mile- 
age." 


Legree  Speaker  of  the  House  in 

"  I  call  it  er  purty  f  sharp  trick,"  grinned  his 
partner. 

"  I  call  it  stealin',"  sneered  an  honourable  member, 
evidently  envious. 

And  James  "  Mileage  "  was  his  name  for  all  time,  but 
"  Mileage "  shot  a  malicious  look  at  the  member  who 
had  called  him  a  thief. 

The  next  morning  the  paper  of  the  Opposition  had  an- 
other biographical  sketch  on  the  front  page. 

"  I  see  your  name  in  the  paper  this  morning,  Mr.  Scog- 
gins  ?  "  remarked  Mrs.  Duke,  looking  pleasantly  at  the 
member  who  had  spoken  so  rudely  to  James  "  Mileage  " 
the  day  before. 

"  Well  I  reckon  I'll  make  my  mark  down  here  before 
it's  over,"  chuckled  Scoggins  with  pride.  "  What  do  they 
say  about  me,  M'am  ?  " 

"  They  say  you  stole  a  lot  of  hogs ! "  tittered  the  land- 
lady. 

Mr.  Scoggins  turned  red. 

"  Oho,  is  there  another  thief  in  this  hon'able  body  ?  " 
sneered  James  "Mileage." 

"  That's  all  a  lie,  M'am,  'bout  them  hogs.  I  didn'  steal 
'em.  I  just  pressed  'em  from  a  Secessiner." 

"  Jes  so,"  said  James  "  Mileage,"  "  but  they  say  you 
were  a  deserter  at  the  time,  and  not  exactly  in  the  service 
of  your  country.  " 

"  Ye  can't  pay  no  'tention  ter  rebel  lies  ergin  Union 
men !  "  explained  Scoggins,  eating  faster. 

"  Yes,  that's  so,"  said  James  "  Mileage,"  "  but  there's 
another  funny  thing  in  the  paper  about  you." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  cried  Scoggins  with  new  alarm. 

"  That  Mr.  Scoggins  met  Sherman's  army  with  loud 
talk  about  lovin'  the  Union,  but  that  a  mean  Yankee 
officer  gave  him  a  cussin'  fur  not  fightin'  on  one  side  or 
the  other,  took  all  that  bacon  he  had  stolen,  hung  him 


H2  The  Leopard's  Spots 

up  by  the  heels,  gave  him  thirty  lashes  and  left  him 
hanging  in  the  air.  " 

"  It's  a  lie !    It's  a  lie !  "  bellowed  Scoggins. 

"  Gentlemen !  Gentlemen !  we  must  not  have  such  be- 
haviour at  my  table !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Duke. 

And  "  Hog  "  Scoggins  was  his  name  from  that  day. 

By  the  end  of  the  week  another  painful  story  was 
printed  about  one  of  this  group  of  statesmen.  The  news- 
paper brutally  declared  that  he  had  been  convicted  of 
stealing  a  rawhide  from  a  neighbour's  tanyard.  It  could 
not  be  denied.  And  then  a  sad  thing  happened.  The 
moral  sentiment  of  the  little  community  could  not  endure 
the  strain.  It  suddenly  collapsed.  They  laughed  at  these 
incidents  of  the  sad  past  and  agreed  that  they  were 
jokes.  They  began  to  call  each  other  James  "  Mileage," 
"  Hog "  Scoggins,  and  "  Rawhide "  in  the  friendliest 
way,  and  dared  a  scornful  world  to  make  them  feel 
ashamed  of  anything! 

But  the  Rev.  Ezra  Perkins  was  pained  by  this  break- 
down. He  felt  that  being  safely  removed  two  thousand 
miles  from  his  own  past,  he  might  hope  for  a  future. 

"  Mrs.  Duke,"  he  complained  to  his  landlady,  "  I  will 
have  to  ask  you  to  give  me  a  room  to  myself.  I'll  pay 
double.  I  want  quiet  where  I  can  read  my  Bible  and 
meditate  occasionally." 

"  Certainly  Mr.  Perkins,  if  you  are  willing  to  pay  for 
it." 

It  was  so  arranged.  But  this  assumption  of  moral  su- 
periority by  Perkins  grieved  "  Mileage,"  "  Hog  "  and 
"  Rawhide,"  and  a  coolness  sprang  up  between  them, 
until  they  found  Ezra  one  night  in  his  place  of  meditation 
dead  drunk  and  his  room  on  fire.  He  had  gone  to  sleep 
in  his  chair  with  his  empty  bottle  by  his  side,  and  knocked 
the  candle  over  on  the  bed.  Then  they  agreed  that  for- 
ever after  they  would  all  stand  together,  shoulder  to 


Legree  Speaker  of  the  House  113 

shoulder,  until  they  brought  the  haughty  low  and  exalted 
the  lowly  and  the  "  loyal." 

Tim  Shelby  early  distinguished  himself  in  this  august 
assemblage.  His  wit  and  eloquence  from  the  first  com- 
manded the  admiration  of  his  party. 

When  he  had  fairly  established  himself  as  leader,  he 
rose  in  his  seat  one  day  with  unusual  gravity.  His  scalp 
was  working  his  ears  with  great  rapidity  showing  his 
excitement. 

He  had  in  his  hands  a  bill  on  which  he  had  spent  months 
in  secret  study.  He  had  not  even  hinted  its  contents 
to  any  of  his  associates.  Under  the  call  for  bills  his 
voice  rang  with  deep  emphasis. 

"Mr.  Speaker!" 

Legree  gave  him  instant  recognition. 

"  I  desire  to  introduce  the  following :  "  A  Bill  to  be 
Entitled  An  Act  to  Relieve  Married  Women  from  the 
Bonds  of  Matrimony  when  United  to  Felons,  and  to  De- 
fine Felony." 

A  page  hurried  to  the  Reading  Clerk  with  his  bill. 

The  hum  of  voices  ceased.  The  five  or  six  representa- 
tives of  the  white  race  left  their  desks  and  walked  quickly 
toward  the  Speaker.  The  Clerk  read  in  a  loud  clear 
voice. 

"  The  General  Assembly  of  North  Carolina  do  enact : 

I  That  all  citizens  of  the  State  who  took  part  in  the 
Rebellion  and  fought  against  the  Union,  or  held  office 
in  the  so  called  Confederate  States  of  America,  shall  be 
held  guilty  of  felony,  and  shall  be  forever  debarred  from 
voting  or  holding  office." 

II  "  That  the  married  relations  of  all  such  felons  are 
hereby  dissolved  and  their  wives  absolutely  divorced,  and 
said  felons  shall  be  forever  barred  from  contracting  mar- 
riage or  living  under  the  same  roof  with  their  former 
wives." 


114  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Instantly  four  Carpet-bagger  members  of  some  educa- 
tion rushed  for  Tim's  seat.  "  Withdraw  that  bill,  man, 
quick !  My  God,  are  you  mad !  "  they  all  cried  in  a 
breath. 

Tim  was  dazed  by  this  unexpected  turn,  and  grinned 
in  an  obstinate  way. 

"  I  can't  see  it  gentlemen.  That  bill  will  kill  out  the 
breed  of  rebels  and  fix  the  status  of  every  Southern  state 
for  five  hundred  years.  It's  just  what  we  need  to  make 
this  state  loyal." 

"  You  pass  that  bill  and  hell  will  break  loose  I " 

"  How  so,  brother  ?  Ain't  we  on  top  and  the  rebels  on 
the  bottom  ?  Ain't  the  army  here  to  protect  us  ?  "  per- 
sisted Tim. 

There  was  a  brief  consultation  among  the  little  group 
in  opposition  and  the  leader  said, 

"  Mr.  Speaker,  I  move  that  the  bill  be  at  once  printed 
and  laid  on  the  desk  of  the  members  for  considera- 
tion." 

Tim  was  astonished  at  this  move  of  his  enemy.  Le- 
gree  looked  at  him  and  waited  his  pleasure. 

"  Mr.  Speaker,  I  withdraw  that  bill  for  the  present," 
he  said  at  length. 

That  night  the  wires  were  hot  tietween  Washington 
and  Raleigh,  and  the  entire  power  of  Congress  was  hurled 
upon  the  unhappy  Tim.  His  bill  was  not  only  suppressed 
but  the  news  agencies  were  threatened  and  subsidised 
to  prevent  accounts  of  its  introduction  being  circulated 
throughout  the  country. 

Tim  decided  to  lay  this  measure  over  until  Congress 
was  off  his  hands,  and  the  state's,  autonomy  fully  rec- 
ognised. Then  he  would  dare  interference.  In  the 
meantime  he  turned  his  great  mind  to  financial  matters. 
His  success  here  was  overwhelming. 

His  first  measure  was  to  increase  the  per  diem  of  the 


Legree  Speaker  of  the  House  115 

members  from  three  to  seven  dollars  a  day.  It  passed 
with  a  whoop. 

Uncle  Pete  Sawyer  a  coal-black  fatherly  looking  old 
darkey  from  an  Eastern  county  made  himself  immortal 
in  that  debate. 

"  Mistah  Speakah ! "  he  bawled  drawing  himself  up 
with  great  dignity,  and  holding  a  pen  in  his  left  hand 
as  though  he  had  been  writing.  "  What  do  dese  white 
gem 'men  mean  by  ezposen  dis  bill?  Ef  we  doan  pay  de 
members  enuf,  dey  des  be  erbleeged  ter  steal.  Hit  aint 
right,  sah,  ter  fo'ce  de  members  er  dis  hon'able  body  ter 
prowl  atter  dark  when  day  otter  be  here  'tendin'  ter  de 
business  o'  de  country.  En  I  moves  you,  sah.  Mistah 
Speakah,  dat  dese  rema'ks  er  mine  be  filed  in  de  arkibes 
er  grabity ! " 

They  were  filed  and  embalmed  in  the  archives  of 
gravity  where  they  will  remain  a  monument  to  their  au- 
thor and  his  times. 

As  Tim's  great  financial  measures  made  progress,  the 
members  began  to  wear  better  clothes,  assumed  white 
linen  shirts,  had  their  shoes  blacked,  and  put  on  the  airs 
of  overworked  statesmen. 

When  they  had  used  up  all  the  funds  of  the  state  in 
mileage  and  per  diem,  they  sold  and  divided  the  school 
fund,  railroad  bonds  worth  a  half  million,  for  a  hundred 
thousand  ready  cash.  It  was  soon  found  that  Simon  Le- 
gree, the  Speaker  of  the  House,  was  the  master  of  financial 
measures  and  Tim  Shelby  was  his  mouthpiece. 

Legree  organised  three  groups  of  thieves  composed  of 
the  officials  needed  to  perfect  the  thefts  in  every  branch 
of  the  government  while  he  retained  the  leadership  of 
the  federated  groups.  The  Treasurer,  who  was  an  honest 
man,  was  stripped  of  power  by  a  special  act. 

The  Capitol  Ring  merely  picked  up  the  odds  and  ends 
about  the  Capitol  building.  They  refurnished  the  Legis- 


u6  The  Leopard's  Spots 

lative  Halls.  They  spent  over  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars  for  furniture,  and  when  it  was  appraised,  its  value 
was  found  to  be  seventeen  thousand  dollars  at  the  prices 
they  actually  paid  for  it.  The  Ring  stole  one  hundred 
and  seventy  thousand  dollars  on  this  item  alone. 

An  appropriation  of  three  hundred  thousand  dollars 
was  made  for  "  supplies,  sundries  and  incidentals."  With 
this  they  built  a  booth  around  the  statue  of  Washington 
at  the  end  of  the  Capitol  and  established  a  bar  with  fine 
liquors  and  cigars  for  the  free  use  of  the  members  and 
their  friends.  They  kept  it  open  every  day  and  night 
during  their  reign,  and  in  a  suite  of  rooms  in  the  Capitol 
they  established  a  brothel.  From  the  galleries  a  swarm 
of  courtesans  daily  smiled  on  their  favourites  on  the 
floor. 

The  printing  had  never  cost  the  state  more  than  eight 
thousand  dollars  in  any  one  year.  This  year  it  cost  four 
hundred  and  eighty  thousand.  Legree  drew  thousands 
of  warrants  on  the  state  for  imaginary  persons.  There 
were  eight  pages  in  the  House.  He  drew  pay  for  one 
hundred  and  fifty-six  pages.  In  this  way  he  raised  an 
enormous  corruption  fund  for  immediate  use  in  bribing 
the  lawmakers  to  carry  through  his  schemes. 

The  Railroad  Ring  was  his  most  effective  group  of 
brigands. 

They  passed  bills  authorising  the  issue  of  twenty-five 
millions  of  dollars  in  bonds,  and  actually  issued  and  stole 
fourteen  millions,  and  never  built  one  foot  of  railroad. 

When  Legree's  movement  was  at  its  high  tide,  Ezra 
Perkins  sought  Uncle  Pete  Sawyer  one  night  in  behalf 
of  a  pet  measure  of  his  pending  in  the  House. 

Peter  was  seated  by  his  table  counting  by  the  light 
of  a  candle  three  big  piles  of  gold. 

His  face  was  wreathed  in  smiles. 


Legree  Speaker  of  the  House  117 

"  Peter,  you  seem  well  pleased  with  the  world  to- 
night ?  "  said  Ezra  gleefully. 

"  Well,  brudder,  you  see  dem  piles  er  yaller  money  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  fine  sight." 

Uncle  Pete  smacked  his  lips  and  grinned  from  ear 
to  ear. 

"  Well,  brudder,  I  tells  you.  I  ben  sol'  seben  times 
in  my  life,  but  'fore  Gawd  dat's  de  fust  time  I  ebber 
got  de  money !  " 

Uncle  Pete  dreamed  that  night  that  Congress  passed 
a  law  extending  the  blessings  of  a  "  republican  form  of 
government "  to  North  Carolina  for  forty  years  and  that 
the  Legislature  never  adjourned. 

But  the  Legislature  finally  closed,  and  in  a  drunken 
revel  which  lasted  all  night.  They  had  bankrupted  the 
state,  destroyed  its  school  funds,  and  increased  its  debt 
from  sixteen  to  forty-two  millions  of  dollars,  without 
adding  one  cent  to  its  wealth  or  power. 

Legree  then  organised  a  Municipal  and  County  Ring 
to  exploit  the  towns,  cities,  and  counties,  having  passed 
a  bill  vacating  all  county  and  city  offices. 

This  Ring  secured  the  control  of  Hambright  and  levied 
a  tax  of  twenty-five  per  cent  for  municipal  purposes! 
Tom  Camp's  little  home  was  assessed  for  eighty-five 
dollars  in  taxes.  Mrs.  Gaston's  home  was  assessed  for 
one  hundred  and  sixty  dollars.  They  could  have  raised 
a  million  as  easily  as  the  sum  of  these  assessments. 

It  cost  the  United  States  government  two  hundred 
millions  of  dollars  that  year  to  pay  the  army  required  to 
guard  the  Legrees  and  their  "  loyal  "  men  while  they 
were  thus  establishing  and  maintaining  "  a  republican 
form  of  government "  in  the  South. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  SECOND  REIGN  OF  TERROR 

IT  was  the  bluest  Monday  the  Rev.  John  Durham  ever 
remembered  in  his  ministry.  A  long  drought  had 
parched  the  corn  into  twisted  and  stunted  little 
stalks  that  looked  as  though  they  had  been  burnt  in  a 
prairie  fire.  The  fly  had  destroyed  the  wheat  crop  and 
the  cotton  was  dying  in  the  blistering  sun  of  August, 
and  a  blight  worse  than  drought,  or  flood,  or  pestilence, 
brooded  over  the  stricken  land,  flinging  the  shadow  of  its 
Black  Death  over  every  home.  The  tax  gatherer  of  the 
new  "  republican  form  of  government,"  recently  estab- 
lished in  North  Carolina  now  demanded  his  pound  of 
flesh. 

The  Sunday  before  had  been  a  peculiarly  hard  one  for 
the  Preacher.  He  had  tried  by  the  sheer  power  of  per- 
sonal sympathy  to  lift  the  despairing  people  out  of  their 
gloom  and  make  strong  their  faith  in  God.  In  his  morn- 
ing sermon  he  had  torn  his  heart  open  and  given 
them  its  red  blood  to  drink.  At  the  night  service  he 
could  not  rally  from  the  nerve  tension  of  the  morning. 
He  felt  that  he  had  pitiably  failed.  The  whole  day  seemed 
a  failure  black  and  hopeless. 

All  day  long  the  sorrowful  stories  of  ruin  and  loss  of 
homes  were  poured  into  his  ear. 

The  Sheriff  had  advertised  for  sale  for  taxes  two 
thousand  three  hundred  and  twenty  homes  in  Campbell 
county.  The  land  under  such  conditions  had  no  value. 

118 


The  Second  Reign  of  Terror  119 

It  was  only  a  formality  for  the  auctioneer  to  cry  it  and 
knock  it  down  for  the  amount  of  the  tax  bill. 

As  he  arose  from  bed  with  the  burden  of  all  this 
hopeless  misery  crushing  his  soul,  a  sense  of  utter  ex- 
haustion and  loneliness  came  over  him. 

"  My  love,  I  must  go  back  to  bed  and  try  to  sleep. 
I  lay  awake  last  night  until  two  o'clock.  I  can't  eat 
anything,"  he  said  to  his  wife  as  she  announced  break- 
fast. 

"John,  dear,  don't  give  up  like  that." 

"  Can't  help  it." 

"  But  you  must.  Come,  here  is  something  that  will 
tone  you  up.  I  found  this  note  under  the  front  door  this 
morning." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  A  notice  from  some  of  your  admirers  that  you  must 
leave  this  county  in  forty-eight  hours  or  take  the  conse- 
quences." 

He  looked  at  this  anonymous  letter  and  smiled. 

"  Not  such  a  failure  after  al1,  am  I?  "  he  mused. 

"  I  thought  that  would  help  you,"  she  laughed. 

"Yes,  I  can  eat  breakfa:.;  on  the  strength  of 
that." 

He  spread  this  letter  out  beside  his  plate,  and  read 
and  reread  it  as  he  ate,  while  his  eyes  flashed  with  a 
strange  half  humourous  light. 

"Really,  that's  fine,  isn't  it?"  "You  sower  of  sedi- 
tion and  rebellion,  hypocrite  and  false  prophet.  The  day 
has  come  to  clean  this  county  of  treason  and  traitors.  If 
you  dare  to  urge  the  pcopi  j  to  further  resistance  to  au- 
thority, there  will  be  one  traitor  less  in  this  county." 

"  That  sounds  like  the  voice  of  a  Daniel  come  to  judg- 
ment, don't  it?" 

"  I  think  Ezra  Perkins  might  know  something  about  it." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it." 


120  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Well,  I'm  duly  grateful,  it's  done  for  you  what  yuir 
wife  couldn't  do,  cheered  you  up  this  morning." 

"  That  is  so,  isn't  it  ?  It  takes  a  violent  poison  some- 
times to  stimulate  the  heart's  action."' 

"  Now  if  you  will  work  the  garden  for  me,  where  I've 
been  watering  it  the  past  month,  you  will  be  yourself 
by  dinner  time." 

"  I  will.  That's  about  all  we've  got  to  eat.  I've  had 
no  salary  in  two  months,  and  I've  no  prospects  for  the 
next  two  months." 

He  was  at  work  in  the  garden  when  Charlie  Gaston 
suddenly  ran  through  the  gate  toward  him.  His  face 
was  red,  his  eyes  streaming  with  tears,  and  his  breath 
coming  in  gasps. 

"Doctor,  they've  killed  Nelse!  Mama  says  please 
come  down  to  our  house  as  quick  as  you  can." 

"Is  he  dead,  Charlie?" 

"  He's  most  dead.  I  found  him  down  in  the  woods 
lying  in  a  gully,  one  leg  is  broken,  there's  a  big  gash  over 
his  eye,  his  back  is  beat  to  a  jelly,  and  one  of  his  arms 
is  broken.  We  put  him  in  the  wagon,  and  hauled  him 
to  the  house.  I'm  afraid  he's  dead  now.  Oh  me !  "  The 
boy  broke  down  and  choked  with  sobs. 

"  Run,  Charlie,  for  the  doctor,  and  I'll  be  there  in  a 
minute." 

The  boy  flew  through  the  gate  to  the  doctor's  house. 

When  the  Preacher  reached  Mrs.  Gaston's,  Aunt  Eve 
was  wiping  the  blood  from  Nelse's  mouth. 

"  De  Lawd  hab  mussy !    My  po'  ole  man's  done  kilt." 

"Who  could  have  done  this,  Eve?" 

"  Dem  Union  Leaguers.  Dey  say  dey  wuz  gwine  ter 
kill  him  fur  not  jinin'  'em,  en  fur  tryin'  ter  vote  ergin 
'em." 

"  I've  been  afraid  of  it,"  sighed  the  Preacher  as  he 
felt  Nelse's  pulse. 


The  Second  Reign  of  Terror  121 

"  Yassir,  en  now  dey's  done  hit.  My  po'  ole  man.  I 
wish  I'd  a  been  better  ter  'im.  Lawd  Jesus,  help  me 
now!" 

Eve  knelt  by  the  bed  and  laid  her  face  against  Nelse's 
while  the  tears  rained  down  her  black  face. 

"  Aunt  Eve,  it  may  not  be  so  bad,"  said  the  Preacher 
hopefully.  "  His  pulse  is  getting  stronger.  He  has  an 
iron  constitution.  I  believe  he  will  pull  through,  if 
there  are  no  internal  injuries." 

"  Praise  God !  ef  he  do  git  well,  I  tell  yer  now,  Marse 
John,  I  fling  er  spell  on  dem  niggers  bout  dis ! " 

"  I  am  afraid  you  can  do  nothing  with  them.  The 
courts  are  all  in  the  hands  of  these  scoundrels,  and  the 
Governor  of  the  state  is  at  the  head  of  the  Leagues." 

"  I  doan  want  no  cotes,  Marse  John,  I'se  cote  ennuf. 
I  kin  cunjure  dem  niggers  widout  any  cote." 

The  doctor  pronounced  his  injuries  dangerous  but  not 
necessarily  fatal.  Charlie  and  Dick  watched  with  Eve 
that  night  until  nearly  midnight.  Nelse  opened  his  eyes, 
and  saw  the  eager  face  of  the  boy,  his  eyes  yet  red  from 
crying. 

"  I  aint  dead,  honey !  "  he  moaned. 

"Oh!  Nelse,  I'm  so  glad!" 

"  Doan  you  believe  I  gwine  die !  I  gwine  ter  git  eben 
wid  dem  niggers  'fore  I  leab  dis  worl'." 

Nelse  spoke  feebly,  but  there  was  a  way  about  his 
saying  it  that  boded  no  good  to  his  enemies,  and  Eve 
was  silent.  As  Nelse  improved,  Eve's  wrath  steadily 
rose. 

The  next  day  she  met  in  the  street  one  of  the  negroes 
who  had  threatened  "Nelse. 

"  How's  Mistah  Gaston  dis  mawnin'  M'am?  "  he  asked. 

Without  a  word  of  warning  she  sprang  on  him  like  a 
tigress,  bore  him  to  the  ground,  grasped  him  by  the  throat 
and  pounded  his  head  against  a  stone.  She  would  have 


122  The  Leopard's  Spots 

choked  him  to  death,  had  not  a  man  who  was  passing 
come  to  the  rescue. 

"  Lemme  lone,  man,  Fse  doin'  de  wuk  er  God !  " 

"  You're  committing  murder,  woman." 

When  the  negro  got  up  he  jumped  the  fence  and  tore 
down  through  a  corn  field,  as  though  pursued  by  a 
hundred  devils,  now  and  then  glancing  over  his  shoulder 
to  see  if  Eve  were  after  him. 

The  Preacher  tried  in  vain  to  bring  the  perpetrators 
of  this  outrage  on  Nelse  to  justice.  He  identified  six 
of  them  positively.  They  were  arrested,  and  when  put 
on  trial  immediately  discharged  by  the  judge  who  was 
himself  a  member  of  the  League  that  had  ordered  Nelse 
whipped. 


Tom  Camp's  daughter  was  now  in  her  sixteenth  year 
and  as  plump  and  winsome  a  lassie,  her  Scotch  mother 
declared,  as  the  Lord  ever  made.  She  was  engaged  to 
be  married  to  Hose  Norman,  a  gallant  poor  white  from 
the  high  hill  country  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  Hose 
came  to  see  her  every  Sunday  riding  a  black  mule,  gaily 
trapped  out  in  martingales  with  red  rings,  double  girths 
to  his  saddle  and  a  flaming  red  tassel  tied  on  each  side  of 
the  bridle.  Tom  was  not  altogether  pleased  with  his 
-future  son-in-law.  He  was  too  wild,  went  to  too  many 
frolics,  danced  too  much,  drank  too  much  whiskey  and 
was  too  handy  with  a  revolver. 

"Annie,  child,  you'd  better  think  twice  before  you 
step  off  with  that  young  buck,"  Tom  gravely  warned 
his  daughter  as  he  stroked  her  fair  hair  one  Sunday  morn- 
ing while  she  waited  for  Hose  to  escort  her  to  church. 

"  I  have  thought  a  hundred  times,  Paw,  but  what's 
the  use.  I  love  him.  He  can  just  twist  me  'round  his 
little  finger.  I've  got  to  have  him." 


The  Second  Reign  of  Terror  123 

"  Tom  Camp,  you  don't  want  to  forget  you  were  not 
a  saint  when  I  stood  up  with  you  one  day,"  cried  his 
wife  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

"  That's  a  fact,  ole  woman,"  grinned  Tom. 

"  You  never  give  me  a  day's  trouble  after  I  got  hold 
of  you.  Sometimes  the  wildest  colts  make  the  safest 
horses." 

"  Yes,  that's  so.  It's  owing  to  who  has  the  breaking 
of  'em,"  thoughtfully  answered  Tom. 

"  I  like  Hose.  He's  full  of  fun,  but  he'll  settle  down 
and  make  her  a  good  husband." 

The  girl  slipped  close  to  her  mother  and  squeezed  her 
hand. 

"  Do  you  love  him  much,  child  ?  "  asked  her  father. 

"  Well  enough  to  live  and  scrub  and  work  for  him 
and  to  die  for  him,  I  reckon." 

"  All  right,  that  settles  it,  you're  too  many  for  me, 
you  and  Hose  and  your  Maw.  Get  ready  for  it  quick. 
We'll  have  the  weddin'  Wednesday  night.  This  home 
is  goin'  to  be  sold  Thursday  for  taxes  and  it  will  be  our 
last  night  under  our  own  roof.  We'll  make  the  best 
of  it." 

It  was  so  fixed.  On  Wednesday  night  Hose  came  down 
from  the  foothills  with  three  kindred  spirits,  and  an 
old  fiddler  to  make  the  music.  He  wanted  to  have  a 
dance  and  plenty  of  liquor  fresh  from  the  mountain-dew 
district.  But  Tom  put  his  foot  down  on  it. 

"  No  dancin'  in  my  house,  Hose,  and  no  licker,"  said 
Tom  with  emphasis.  "  I'm  a  deacon  in  the  Baptist 
church.  I  used  to  be  young  and  as  good  lookin'  as  you, 
my  boy,  but  I've  done  with  them  things.  You're  goin' 
to  take  my  little  gal  now.  I  want  you  to  quit  your  fool- 
ishness and  be  a  man." 

"  I  will,  Tom,  I  will.  She  is  the  prettiest  sweetest 
little  thing  in  this  world,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth  I'm 


124  The  Leopard's  Spots 

goin'  to  settle  right  down  now  to  the  hardest  work  I 
ever  did  in  my  life." 

"  That's  the  way  to  talk,  my  boy,"  said  Tom  putting 
his  hand  on  Hose's  shoulder.  "  You'll  have  enough  to 
do  these  hard  times  to  make  a  livin'." 

They  made  a  handsome  picture,  in  that  humble  home, 
as  they  stood  there  before  the  Preacher.  The  young 
bride  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot  with  fright.  Hose 
was  trying  to  look  grave  and  dignified  and  grinning  in 
spite  of  himself  whenever  he  looked  into  the  face  of  his 
blushing  mate.  The  mother  was  standing  near,  her  face 
full  of  pride  in  her  daughter's  beauty  and  happiness, 
her  heart  all  a  quiver  with  the  memories  of  her  own 
wedding  day  seventeen  years  before.  Tom  was  think- 
ing of  the  morrow  when  he  would  be  turned  out  of  his 
home  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

The  Rev.  John  Durham  had  pronounced  them  man 
and  wife  and  hurried  away  to  see  some  people  who 
were  sick.  The  old  fiddler  was  doing  his  best.  Hose 
and  his  bride  were  shaking  hands  with  fheir  friends,  and 
the  boys  were  trying  to  tease  the  bridegroom  with  hoary 
old  jokes. 

Suddenly  a  black  shadow  fell  across  the  doorway.  The 
fiddle  ceased,  and  every  eye  was  turned  to  the  door.  The 
burly  figure  of  a  big  negro  trooper  from  a  company  sta- 
tioned in  the  town  stood  before  them.  His  face  was  in 
a  broad  grin,  and  his  eyes  bloodshot  with  whiskey.  He 
brought  his  musket  down  on  the  floor  with  a  bang. 

"  My  frien's,  I'se  sorry  ter  disturb  yer  but  I  has  orders 
ter  search  dis  house." 

"  Show  your  orders,"  said  Tom  hobbling  before  him. 

"  Well,  deres  one  un  'em !  "  he  said  still  grinning  as  he 
cocked  his  gun  and  presented  it  toward  Tom.  "  En  ef 
dat  aint  ennuf  dey's  fifteen  mo'  stanin'  'roun'  dis  house. 
It's  no  use  ter  make  er  fuss.  Come  on,  boys ! " 


The  Second  Reign  of  Terror  125 

Before  Tom  could  utter  another  word  of  protest  six 
more  negro  troopers  laughing  and  nudging  one  another 
crowded  into  the  room.  Suddenly  one  of  them  threw  a 
bucket  of  water  in  the  fire  place  where  a  pine  knot  blazed 
and  two  others  knocked  out  the  candles. 

There  was  a  scuffle,  the  quick  thud  of  heavy  blows, 
and  Hose  Norman  fell  to  the  floor  senseless.  A  pierc- 
ing scream  rang  from  his  bride  as  she  was  seized  in 
the  arms  of  the  negro  who  first  appeared.  He  rapidly 
bore  her  toward  the  door  surrounded  by  the  six  scoun- 
drels who  had  accompanied  him. 

"  My  God,  save  her !  They  are  draggin'  Annie  out  of 
the  house,"  shrieked  her  mother. 

"  Help !  Help !  Lord  have  mercy !  "  screamed  the 
girl  as  they  bore  her  away  toward  the  woods,  still  laugh- 
ing and  yelling. 

Tom  overtook  one  of  them,  snatched  his  wooden  leg 
off,  and  knocked  him  down.  Hose's  mountain  boys  were 
crowding  round  Tom  with  their  pistols  in  their  hands. 

"  What  shall  we  do,  Tom  ?  If  we  shoot  we  may  kill 
Annie." 

"  Shoot,  men !  My  God,  shoot !  There  are  things 
worse  than  death !  " 

They  needed  no  urging.  Like  young  tigers  they 
sprang  across  the  orchard  toward  the  woods  whence 
came  the  sound  of  the  laughter  of  the  negroes. 

"  Stop  de  screechin' !  "  cried  the  leader. 

"  She  nebber  get  dat  gag  out  now." 

"  Too  smart  fur  de  po'  white  trash  dis  time  sho'  1 " 
laughed  one. 

Three  pistol  shots  rang  out  like  a  single  report !  Three 
more !  and  three  more !  There  was  a  wild  scramble.  Taken 
completely  by  surprise,  the  negroes  fled  in  confusion. 
Four  lay  on  the  ground.  Two  were  dead,  one  mortally 
wounded  and  three  more  had  crawled  away  with  bullets 


The  Leopard's  Spots 

in  their  bodies.  There  in  the  midst  of  the  heap  lay  the 
unconscious  girl  gagged. 

"  Is  she  hurt  ?  "  cried  a  mountain  boy. 

"  Can't  tell,  take  her  to  the  house  quick." 

They  laid  her  across  the  bed  in  the  room  that  had 
been  made  sweet  and  tidy  for  the  bride  and  groom.  The 
mother  bent  over  her  quickly  with  a  light.  Just  where 
the  blue  veins  crossed  in  her  delicate  temple  there  was 
a  round  hole  from  which  a  scarlet  stream  was  running 
down  her  white  throat. 

Without  a  word  the  mother  brought  Tom,  showed  it 
to  him,  and  then  fell  into  his  arms  and  burst  into  a  flood 
of  tears. 

"  Don't,  don't  cry  so  Annie !  It  might  have  been  worse* 
Let  us  thank  God  she  was  saved  from  them  brutes." 

Hose's  friends  crowded  round  Tom  now  with  tear* 
stained  faces. 

"  Tom,  you  don't  know  how  broke  up  we  all  are  ove* 
this.  Poor  child,  we  did  the  best  we  could." 

"  It's  all  right,  boys.  You've  been  my  friends  to-night, 
You've  saved  my  little  gal.  I  want  to  shake  hands  with 
you  and  thank  you.  If  you  hadn't  been  here — My  God, 
I  can't  think  of  what  would  'a  happened!  Now  it's  all 
right.  She's  safe  in  God's  hands.  " 

The  next  morning  when  Tom  Camp  called  at  the  par- 
sonage to  see  the  Preacher  and  arrange  for  the  funeral 
of  his  daughter  he  found  him  in  bed. 

"  Dr.  Durham  is  quite  sick,  Mr.  Camp,  but  he'll  see 
you,"  said  Mrs.  Durham. 

"  Thank  you,  M'am." 

She  took  the  old  soldier  by  the  hand  and  her  voice 
choked  as  she  said, 

"  You  have  my  heart's  deepest  sympathy  in  your  awful 
sorrow." 

"  It'll  be  all  lor  the  best,  M'am.    The  Lord  gave  and 


The  Second  Reign  of  Terror  1*7 

tfie  Lord  has  taken  away.  I  will  still  say,  Blessed  is 
the  name  of  the  Lord !  " 

"  I  wish  I  had  such  faith."  She  led  Tom  into  the 
room  where  the  Preacher  lay. 

"  Why,  what's  this,  Preacher  ?  A  bandage  over  your 
eye,  looks  like  somebody  knocked  you  in  the  head  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Tom,  but  it's  nothing.  I'll  be  all  right  by  to- 
morrow. You  needn't  tell  me  anything  that  happened 
at  your  house.  I've  heard  the  black  hell-lit  news.  It  will 
be  all  over  this  county  by  night  and  the  town  will  be  full 
of  grim-visaged  men  before  many  hours.  Your  child  has 
not  died  in  vain.  A  few  things  like  this  will  be  the 
trumpet  of  the  God  of  our  fathers  that  will  call  the  sleep- 
ing manhood  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  to  life  again.  I 
must  be  up  and  about  this  afternoon  to  keep  down  the 
storm.  It  is  not  time  for  it  to  break." 

"  But,  Preacher,  what  happened  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh !  nothing  much,  Tom." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  happened,"  cried  Mrs.  Durham 
standing  erect  with  her  great  dark  eyes  flashing  with 
anger. 

"  As  he  came  home  last  night  from  a  visit  to  the  sick, 
he  was  ambushed  by  a  gang  of  negroes  led  by  a  white 
scoundrel,  knocked  down,  bound  and  gagged  and  placed 
on  a  pile  of  dry  fence  rails.  They  set  fire  to  the  pile 
and  left  him  to  burn  to  death.  It  attracted  the  attention 
of  Doctor  Graham  who  was  passing.  He  got  to  him  in 
time  to  save  him." 

"You  don't  say  so!" 

"  I'm  sorry,  Tom,  I'm  so  weak  this  morning  I 
couldn't  come  to  see  you.  I  know  your  poor  wife  is 
heartbroken." 

"  Yes,  sir,  she  is,  and  it  cuts  me  to  the  quick  when  I 
think  that  I  gave  the  orders  to  the  boys  to  shoot.  But, 
Preacher,  I'd  a  killed  her  with  my  own  hand  if  I  couldn't 


128  The  Leopard's  Spots 

a  saved  her  no  other  way.  I'd  do  it  over  again  a  thou- 
sand times  if  I  had  to." 

"  I  don't  blame  you,  I'd  have  done  the  same  thing.  I 
can't  come  to  see  you  to-day,  Tom,  Til  be  down  to  your 
house  to-morrow  a  few  minutes  before  we  start  for  the 
cemetery.  I  must  get  up  for  dinner  and  prevent  the  men 
from  attacking  these  troops.  They'll  not  dare  to  try  to 
sell  your  place  to-day.  The  public  square  is  full  of  men 
now,  and  it's  only  nine  o'clock.  You  go  home  and  cheer 
up  your  wife.  How  is  Hose?" 

"  He's  still  in  bed.  The  Doctor  says  his  skull  is  broken 
in  one  place,  but  he'll  be  over  it  in  a  few  weeks." 

Tom  hobbled  back  to  his  house,  shaking  hands  with 
scores  of  silent  men  on  the  way. 

The  Preacher  crawled  to  his  desk  and  wrote  this  note 
to  the  young  officer  in  command  of  the  post, 

MY  DEAR  CAPTAIN, 

In  the  interest  of  peace  and  order  I  would  advise  you 
to  telegraph  to  Independence  for  two  companies  of  white 
regulars  to  come  immediately  on  a  special,  and  that  you 
start  your  negro  troops  on  double  quick  marching  order 
to  meet  them.  There  will  be  a  thousand  armed  men  in 
Hambright  by  sundown,  and  no  power  on  earth  can  pre- 
vent the  extermination  of  that  negro  company  if  they 
attack  them.  I  will  do  my  best  to  prevent  further  blood- 
shed but  I  can  do  nothing  if  these  troops  remain  here 
to-day.  Respectfully, 

JOHN  DURHAM. 

The    Commandant   acted   on   the  advice  immediately. 

****** 

It  was  the  week  following  before  the  sales  began. 
There  was  no  help  for  it.  The  town  and  the  county 


The  Second  Reign  of  Terror  129 

were  doomed  to  a  ruin  more  complete  and  terrible  than 
the  four  years  of  war  had  brought.  Independence  had 
been  saved  by  a  skillful  movement  of  General  Worth, 
who  sought  an  interview  with  Legree  when  his  council 
first  issued  their  levy  of  thirty  per  cent  for  municipal 
purposes. 

"  Mr.  Legree,  let's  understand  one  another,"  said  the 
General. 

"  All  right,  I'm  a  man  of  reason." 

"  A  bird  in  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush ! " 

"  Every  time,  General." 

"  Well,  call  off  your  dogs,  and  rescind  your  order  for 
a  thirty  per  cent  tax  levy,  and  I'll  raise  $30,000  in  cash 
and  pay  it  to  you  in  two  days." 

"  Make  it  $50,000  and  it's  a  bargain." 

"Agreed."   • 

The  General  raised  twenty  thousand  in  the  city,  went 
North  and  borrowed  the  remaining  thirty  thousand. 

Legree  and  his  brigands  received  this  ransom  and 
moved  on  to  the  next  town. 

Poor  Hambright  was  but  a  scrawny  little  village  on  a 
red  hill  with  no  big  values  to  be  saved,  and  no  mills  to 
interest  the  commercial  world,  and  the  auctioneer  lifted 
his  hammer. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  RED  FLAG  OF  THE  AUCTIONEER 

THE  excitement  through  which  Tom  Camp  had 
passed  in  the  death  of  his  daughter,  and  the 
stirring  events  connected  with  it,  had  been  more 
than  his  feeble  body  could  endure.  He  had  been  stricken 
with  paroxysms  of  pain  and  nausea  from  his  old  wounds. 
For  three  days  and  nights  he  had  suffered  unspeakable 
agonies.  He  had  borne  his  pain  with  stoical  in- 
difference. 

"  Tom,  old  man,  do  look  at  me !  You  skeer  me/'  said 
his  wife  leaning  tenderly  over  him. 

"  Oh  I     I'm  all  right,  Annie." 

"  What  was  you  studyin'  about  then  ?  " 

"  I  was  just  a  thinkin'  we  didn't  kill  babies  in  the  war. 
Them  was  awful  times,  but  they  wuz  nothin'  to  what 
we're  goin'  through  now.  The  Lord  knows  best,  but  I 
can't  understand  it." 

"  Well,  don't  talk  any  more.    You're  too  weak." 

"  I  must  git  up,  Annie.  Got  to  git  out  anyhow.  The 
Sheriff's  goin'  to  sell  us  out  to-day,  and  I  want  to  sorter 
look  'round  once  before  we  go." 

So,  leaning  on  his  wife's  arm,  he  hobbled  around  the 
place  saying  good-bye  to  its  familiar  objects.  They 
stopped  before  the  garden  gate. 

"  Don't  go  in  there,  Tom,  I  can't  stand  it,"  cried  his 
wife.  "  When  I  think  of  leavin'  that  garden  I've  worked 
so  hard  on  all  these  years,  and  that's  give  us  so  many 

130 


The  Red  Flag  of  the  Auctioneer          131 

good  things  to  eat,  and  never  failed  us  the  year  round, 
I  just  feel  like  it'll  tear  my  heart  out." 

"  Do  you  mind  the  day  we  set  out  these  trees,  Annie, 
an'  you,  my  own  purty  gal  holdin'  em  fur  me  while  I 
packed  the  dirt  around  'em,  and  told  you  how  sweet  you 
wuz?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  love  every  twig  of  'em.  They've  all  helped 
me  in  times  of  need.  Oh !  Lord,  it's  hard  to  give  it  up !  "- 
She  couldn't  keep  back  the  tears. 

"  Well,  now,  ole  woman,  you  mustn't  break  down. 
You're  strong  and  well  and  I'm  all  shot  to  pieces  and 
crippled  and  no  'count.  But  the  Lord  still  lives.  We'll 
get  this  place  back.  The  Lord's  just  trying  our  faith. 
He  thinks  mebbe  I'll  give  up." 

"  You  think  we  can  ever  get  it  back  ?  " 

"  General  Worth  sent  me  word  he  couldn't  do  any- 
thing now,  but  to  let  it  go  and  keep  a  stiff  upper  lip. 
The  General  ain't  no  fool." 

"  Surely  the  Lord  can't  let  us  starve." 

"  Starve !  I  reckon  not !  The  foxes  have  holes,  the 
birds  of  the  air  nests,  but  the  Son  of  Man  had  not  where 
to  lay  His  head,  but  He  never  starved.  No,  God's  in 
Heaven.  I'll  trust  Him." 

A  mocking  bird  whose  mate  had  just  built  her  nest  to 
rear  a  second  brood  for  the  season  was  seated  on  the 
topmost  branch  of  a  cedar  near  the  house,  and  singing 
as  though  he  would  fill  heaven  and  earth  with  the  glory 
of  his  love. 

"  Just  listen  at  that  bird,  Tom !  "  whispered  his  wife. 

"He  does  sing  sweet,  don't  he?" 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  how  can  I  give  it  all  up !  I've  fed 
that  bird  and  his  mate  for  years.  He  knows  my  voice. 
I  can  call  him  down  out  of  that  tree.  Many  a  night  when 
you  were  away  in  the  war  he  sat  close  to  my  window 
and  sang  softly  to  me  all  night.  When  I'd  wake,  I'd  hear 


13  a  The  Leopard's  Spots 

him  singin'  low  like  he  was  afraid  he'd  wake  somebody. 
I'd  sit  down  there  by  the  window  and  cry  for  you  and 
dream  of  your  comin'  home  till  he'd  sing  me  to  sleep  in 
the  chair.  And  now  we've  got  to  leave  him.  Oh  Lord, 
my  heart  is  broken !  I  can't  see  the  way !  " 

She  buried  her  face  on  Tom's  shoulder  and  shook  with 
sobs. 

"  Hush,  hush,  honey,  we  must  face  trouble.  We  are 
used  to  it." 

"  But  not  this,  Tom.  It'll  tear  my  heart  out  when  I 
have  to  leave." 

"  It  can't  be  helped,  Annie.  We've  got  to  pay  for  this 
nigger  government." 

Eleven  o'clock  was  the  hour  fixed  for  the  sale.  At 
half  past  ten  a  crowd  of  negroes  had  gathered.  There 
were  only  two  or  three  white  men  present,  the  Agent  of 
the  Freedman's  Bureau  and  some  of  his  henchmen. 

They  began  to  inspect  the  place.  Tim  Shelby  was 
present,  dressed  in  a  suit  of  broadcloth  and  a  silk  hat 
placed  jauntily  on  his  close-cropped  scalp. 

"  That's  a  fine  orchard,  gentlemen,"  Tim  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  en  dats  er  fine  gyarden,"  said  a  negro  standing 
near. 

"  Let's  look  at  the  house,"  said  Tim  starting  to  the 
door. 

Tom  stood  up  in  the  doorway  with  a  musket  in  his  hand, 
"  Put  your  foot  on  that  doorstep  and  I'll  blow  your 
brains  out,  you  flat-nosed  baboon ! " 

Tim  paused  and  bowed  with  a  smile. 

"  Ain't  the  premises  for  sale,  Mr.  Camp  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  my  family  ain't  for  inspection  by 
niggers." 

"Just  wanted  to  see  the  condition  of  the  house,  sir," 
said  Tim  still  smiling. 

"  Well,  I'm  livin'  here  yet,  and  don't  you  forget  it," 


The  Red  Flag  of  the  Auctioneer          133 

answered  Tom  with  quiet  emphasis.  Tim  walked  away 
laughing. 

Tom  stepped  out  of  the  house,  and  with  his  wooden 
leg  marked  a  dead  line  around  the  house  about  ten  feet 
from  each  corner.  To  the  crowd  that  stood  near  he 
said  in  a  clear  ringing  voice  as  he  stood  up  in  the  door- 
way. 

"  I'll  kill  the  first  nigger  that  crosses  that  line." 

There  was  no  attempt  to  cross  it.  They  did  not  like 
the  look  of  Tom's  face  as  he  sat  there  pale  and  silent. 
And  they  could  hear  the  sobs  of  his  wife  inside. 

The  sale  was  a  brief  formality.  There  was  but  one 
bidder,  the  Honourable  Tim  Shelby.  It  was  knocked  down 
to  Tim  for  the  sum  of  eighty-five  dollars,  the  exact 
amount  of  the  tax  levy  which  Legree  and  his  brigands 
had  fixed. 

Tim  was  not  buying  on  his  own  account.  He  was  the 
purchasing  agent  of  the  subsidiary  ring  which  Legree 
had  organised  to  hold  the  real  estate  forfeited  for  taxes 
until  a  rise  in  value  would  bring  them  millions  of  profit. 
They  had  stolen  from  the  state  Treasury  the  money  to 
capitalise  this  company.  Where  it  was  possible  to  exact 
a  cash  ransom,  they  always  took  it  and  cancelled  the  tax 
order,  preferring  the  certainty  of  good  gold  in  their 
pockets  to  the  uncertainties  of  politics. 

They  tried  their  best  to  get  a  cash  ransom  of  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  for  the  town  of  Hambright.  But  the  ruined 
people  could  not  raise  a  thousand.  So  Tim  Shelby  as 
the  agent  of  the  "  Union  Land  and  Improvement  Com- 
pany," became  the  owner  of  farm  after  farm  and  home 
after  home. 

It  was  a  vain  hope  that  relief  could  come  from  any 
quarter.  The  red  flag  of  the  Sheriff's  auctioneer  fluttered 
from  two  thousand  three  hundred  and  twenty  doors  in 
the  conntv  This  was  over  two-thirds  of  the  total. 


134  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Those  who  were  saved,  just  escaped  by  the  skin  erf  their 
teeth.  They  sold  old  jewelry  or  plate  that  had  been 
hidden  in  the  war,  or  they  sold  their  corn  and  provisions, 
trusting  to  their  ability  to  live  on  dried  fruit,  berries, 
walnuts,  hickory  nuts,  and  such  winter  vegetables  as  they 
could  raise  in  their  gardens. 

The  Preacher  secured  for  Tom  a  tumbled-down  log 
cabin  on  the  outskirts  of  town,  with  a  half-acre  of  poor 
red  hill  land  around  it,  which  his  wife  at  once  trans- 
formed into  a  garden.  She  took  up  the  bulbs  and  flowers 
that  she  had  tended  so  lovingly  about  the  door  of  their 
old  home,  and  planted  them  with  tears  around  this  deso- 
late cabin.  Now  and  then  she  would  look  down  at  the 
work  and  cry.  Then  she  would  go  bravely  back  to  it. 
As  nobody  occupied  her  old  home,  she  went  back  and 
forth  until  she  moved  all  the  jonquils  and  sweet  pinks 
from  the  borders  of  the  garden  walk,  and  reset  them 
in  the  new  garden.  She  moved  then  her  strawberries 
and  rapsberries,  and  gooseberries,  and  set  her  fall  cab- 
bage plants.  In  three  weeks  she  had  transformed  a 
desolate  red  clay  lot  into  a  smiling  garden.  She  had 
watered  every  plant  daily,  and  Tom  had  watched  her 
with  growing  wonder  and  love. 

"  Ole  woman,  you're  an  angel !  "  he  cried,  "  if  God  had 
sent  one  down  from  the  skies  she  couldn't  have  done  any 

more." 

*  *  *  *  * 

The  problem  which  pressed  heaviest  of  all  on  the 
Preacher's  heart  in  this  crisis  was  how  to  save  Mrs. 
Gaston's  home. 

"  If  that  place  is  sold  next  week,  my  dear,"  he  said  to 
his  wife,  "  she  will  never  survive." 

"  I  know  it.  She  is  sinking  every  day.  It  breaks  my 
heart  to  look  at  her." 

"What  can  we  do?" 


The  Red  Flag  of  the  Auctioneer          135 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  tell.  We've  given  everything  we 
have  on  earth  except  the  clothes  on  our  back.  I  haven't 
another  piece  of  jewelry,  or  even  an  old  dress." 

"  The  tax  and  the  costs  may  amount  to  a  hundred  and 
seventy-five  dollars.  There  isn't  a  man  in  this  county 
who  has  that  much  money,  or  I'd  borrow  it  if  I  had  to 
mortgage  my  body  and  soul  to  do  it." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  you  might  do,"  his  wife  suddenly 
exclaimed.  "  Telegraph  your  old  college  mate  in  Boston 
that  you  will  accept  his  invitation  to  supply  his  pulpit 
those  last  two  Sundays  in  August.  They  will  pay  you 
handsomely." 

"  It  may  be  possible,  but  where  am  I  to  get  the  money 
for  a  telegram  and  a  ticket  ?  " 

"  Surely  you  can  borrow  some  here !  " 

"  I  don't  know  a  man  in  the  county  who  has  it." 

"  Then  go  to  the  young  Commandant  of  the  post  here. 
Tell  him  the  facts.  Tell  him  that  a  widow  of  a  brave 
Confederate  soldier  is  about  to  be  turned  out  of  her  home 
because  she  can't  pay  the  taxes  levied  by  this  infamous 
negro  government.  Ask  him  to  loan  you  the  money  for 
the  telegram  and  the  ticket." 

The  Preacher  seized  his  hat  and  made  his  way  as  fast 
as  possible  to  the  camp.  The  young  Captain  heard  his 
story  with  grave  courtesy. 

"  Certainly,  doctor,"  he  said,  "  I'll  loan  you  the  forty 
dollars  with  pleasure.  I  wish  I  could  do  more  to  relieve 
the  distress  of  the  people.  Believe  me,  sir,  the  people 
of  the  North  do  not  dream  of  the  awful  conditions  of 
the  South.  They  are  being  fooled  by  the  politicians.  I'll 
thank  God  when  I  am  relieved  of  this  job  and  get  home. 
What  has  amazed  me  is  that  you  hot-headed  Southern 
people  have  stood  it  thus  far.  I  don't  know  a  Northern 
community  that  would  have  endured  it." 

"Ah,  Captain,  the  people  are  heartsick  of  bloodshed, 


136  The  Leopard's  Spots 

They  surrendered  in  good  faith.  They  couldn't  foresee 
this.  If  they  had"— 

The  Preacher  paused,  his  eyes  grew  misty  with  tears, 
and  he  looked  thoughtfully  out  on  the  blue  mountain 
peaks  that  loomed  range  after  range  in  the  distance  until 
the  last  bald  tops  were  lost  in  the  clouds. 

"  If  General  Lee  had  dreamed  of  such  an  infamy 
being  forced  on  the  South  two  years  after  his  surrender, 
as  this  attempt  to  make  the  old  slaves  the  rulers  of  their 
masters,  and  to  destroy  the  Anglo-Saxon  civilisation  of 
the  South — he  would  have  withdrawn  his  armies  into 
that  Appalachian  mountain  wild  and  fought  till  every 
white  man  in  the  South  was  exterminated. 

"  The  Confederacy  went  to  pieces  in  a  day,  not  because 
the  South  could  no  longer  fight,  but  because  they  were 
fighting  the  flag  of  their  fathers,  and  they  were  tired  of 
it.  They  went  back  to  the  old  flag.  They  expected  to 
lose  their  slaves  and  repudiate  the  dogma  of  Secession 
forever.  But,  they  never  dreamed  of  Negro  dominion, 
or  Negro  deification,  of  Negro  equality  and  amalgama- 
tion, now  being  rammed  down  their  throats  with  bay- 
onets. They  never  dreamed  of  the  confiscation  of  the 
desolate  homes  of  the  poor  and  the  weak  and  the  broken- 
hearted. Over  two  hundred  thousand  Southern  men 
fought  in  the  Union  army  in  answer  to  Lincoln's  call — 
even  against  their  own  flesh  and  blood.  But  if  this  pro- 
gram had  been  announced,  every  one  of  the  two  hun- 
dred thousand  Southern  soldiers  who  wore  the  blue, 
would  have  rallied  around  the  firesides  of  the  South.  This 
infamy  was  something  undreamed  save  in  the  souls  of  a 
few  desperate  schemers  at  Washington  who  waited  their 
opportunity,  and  found  it  in  the  nation's  blind  agony 
over  the  death  of  a  martyred  leader/' 

The  Preacher  pressed  the  Captain's  hand  and  hastened 
to  tell  Mrs.  Gaston  of  his  plans.  He  found  her  seated  pale 


The  Red  Flag  of  the  Auctioneer         137 

and  wistful  at  her  window  looking  out  on  the  lawn, 
now  being  parched  and  ruined  since  Nelse  was  disabled 
and  could  no  longer  tend  it. 

Charlie  was  trying  to  kiss  the  tears  away  from  her 
eyes. 

"  Mama  dear,  you  mustn't  cry  any  more !  " 

"  I  can't  help  it,  darling." 

"  They  can't  take  our  home  away  from  us.  I  tore  the 
sign  down  they  nailed  on  the  door,  and  Dick  burned 
it  up!" 

"  But  they  will  do  it,  Charlie.  The  Sheriff  will  sell  it 
at  auction  next  week,  and  we  will  never  have  a  home  of 
our  own  again." 

Charlie  bounded  to  the  door  and  showed  the  Preacher 
in.  V 

"  I  have  good  news  for  you,  Mrs.  Gaston  I  I  start  to 
Boston  to-night  to  preach  two  Sundays.  I  am  going  to 
try  to  borrow  the  money  there  to  save  your  home.  We 
will  not  be  too  sure  till  it's  done,  but  you  must  cheer 
up!" 

"  Oh !  doctor,  you're  giving  me  a  new  lease  on  life ! " 
she  cried,  looking  up  at  him  through  tears  of  grati- 
tude. 

That  night  the  Preacher  hurried  on  'his  way  to  Boston. 

The  days  dragged  slowly  one  after  another,  and  still 
no  word  came  to  the  anxious  waiting  woman.  It  was 
only  two  days  now  until  the  day  fixed  for  the  sale. 

She  asked  the  Sheriff  to  come  to  see  her.  He  was  a 
brutal  illiterate  henchman  of  Legree,  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  the  office  to  do  his  bidding.  He  was  a  brother 
of  the  immortal  "  Hog  "  Scoggins,  who  had  represented 
an  adjoining  county  in  the  Legislature. 

"  Mr.  Scoggins,  I've  sent  for  you  to  ask  you  to  post- 
pone the  sale  until  Dr.  Durham  returns  from  Boston.  I 
expect  to  get  the  money  from  him  to  pay  the  tax  bill," 


138  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Can't  do  it,  M'um.  They's  er  lot  er  folks  comin'  ter 
bid  on  the  place." 

"  But  I  tell  you  I'm  going  to  pay  the  tax  bill." 

"  Well,  M'um,  hit'll  have  ter  be  paid  afore  the  time 
sot,  er  I'll  be  erbleeged  to  sell." 

"  I'm  sure  Dr.  Durham  will  get  the  money." 

"  Ef  he  does,  hit  '11  be  the  fust  time  hit's  happened  in 
this  county  sence  the  sales  begun." 

In  vain  she  waited  for  a  letter  or  a  telegram  from 
Boston.  Charlie  went  faithfully  asking  Dave  Haley,  the 
postmaster,  two  or  three  times  on  the  arrival  of  each 
mail. 

"  I  tell  ye  there's  nothin'  fur  ye !  "  he  yelled  as  he 
glared  at  the  boy.  "  Ef  ye  don't  go  way  from  that  win- 
der, "ill  pitch  ye  out  the  door !  " 

The  scoundrel  had  recognised  the  letter  in  Dr.  Dur- 
ham's handwriting  and  had  hidden  it,  suspecting  its  con- 
tents. 

When  the  day  came  for  the  sale  Mrs.  Gaston  tried  to 
face  the  trial  bravely.  But  it  was  too  much  for  her. 
When  she  saw  a  great  herd  of  negroes  trampling  down 
her  flowers,  laughing,  cracking  vulgar  jokes,  and  swarm- 
ing over  the  porches,  she  sank  feebly  into  her  chair, 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  gave  way  to  a  passion- 
ate flood  of  tears.  She  was  roused  by  the  thumping  of 
heavy  feet  in  the  hall,  and  the  unmistakable  odour  of  per- 
spiring negroes.  They  had  begun  to  ransack  the  house 
on  tours  of  inspection.  The  poor  woman's  head  drooped 
and  she  fell  to  the  floor  in  a  dead  swoon. 

There  was  a  sudden  charge  as  of  an  armed  host,  the 
sound  of  blows,  a  wild  scramble,  and  the  house  was 
cleared.  Aunt  Eve  with  a  fire  shovel,  Charlie  with  a 
broken  hoe  handle,  and  Dick  with  a  big  black  snake  whip 
had  cleared  the  air. 


The  Red  Flag  of  the  Auctioneer          139 

Aunt  Eve  stood  on  the  front  door-step  shaking  the 
shovel  at  the  crowd. 

"  Des  put  yo  big  flat  hoofs  in  dis  house  ergin !  I'll 
split  yo  heads  wide  open !  You  black  cattle !  " 

"  Dat  we  will !  "  railed  Dick  as  he  cracked  the  whip 
at  a  little  negro  passing. 

Charlie  ran  into  his  mother's  room  to  see  what  she  was1 
doing,  and  found  her  lying  across  the  floor  on  her  face. 

"  Aunt  Eve,  come  quick,  Mama's  dying !  "  he  shouted. 

They  lifted  her  to  the  bed,  and  Dick  ran  for  the  doctor. 

Dr.  Graham  looked  very  grave  when  he  had  completed 
his  examination. 

"  Come  here,  my  boy,  I  must  tell  you  some  sad  news." 

Charlie's  big  brown  eyes  glanced  up  with  a  startled 
look  into  the  doctor's  face. 

"  Don't  tell  me  she's  dying,  doctor,  I  can't  stand  it." 

The  doctor  took  his  hand.  "  You're  getting  to  be  a 
man  now,  my  son,  you  will  soon  be  thirteen.  You  must 
be  brave.  Your  mother  will  not  live  through  the  night." 

The  boy  sank  on  his  knees  beside  the  still  white  figure, 
tenderly  clasped  her  thin  hand  in  his,  and  began  to  kiss 
it  slowly.  He  would  kiss  it,  lay  his  wet  cheek  against  it, 
and  try  to  warm  it  with  his  hot  young  blood. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  when  she  opened  her  eyes 
with  a  smile  and  looked  into  his  face. 

"  My  sweet  boy,"  she  whispered. 

"Oh!  Mama,  do  try  to  live!  Don't  leave  me,"  he 
sobbed  in  quivering  tones  as  he  leaned  over  and  kissed 
her  lips.  She  smiled  faintly  again. 

"  Yes,  I  must  go,  dear.  I  am  tired.  Your  papa  is 
waiting  for  me.  I  see  him  smiling  and  beckoning  to  me 
now.  I  must  go." 

A  sob  shook  the  boy  with  an  agony  no  words  could 
frame. 


140  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  There,  there,  dear,  don't,"  she  soothingly  said,  "  you 
will  grow  to  be  a  brave  strong  man.  You  will  fight  this 
battle  out,  and  win  back  our  home  and  bring  your  own 
bride  here  in  the  far  away  days  of  sunshine  and  suc- 
cess I  see  for  you.  She  will  love  you,  and  the  flowers 
will  blossom  on  the  lawn  again.  But  I  am  tired.  Kiss 
me — I  must  go." 

Her  heart  fluttered  on  for  a  while,  but  she  never  spoke 
again. 

At  ten  o'clock  Mrs.  Durham  tenderly  lifted  the  boy 
from  the  bedside,  kissed  him,  and  said  as  she  led  him 
to  his  room, 

"  She's  done  with  suffering,  Charlie.  You  are  going 
to  live  with  me  now,  and  let  me  love  you  and  be  your 
mother." 


The  Preacher  had  made  a  profound  impression  on  his 
Boston  congregation. 

They  were  charmed  by  his  simple  direct  appeal  to  the 
heart.  His  fiery  emphasis,  impassioned  dogmatic  faith, 
his  tenderness  and  the  strange  pathos  of  his  voice  swept 
them  off  their  feet.  At  night  the  big  church  was  crowded 
to  the  doors,  and  throngs  were  struggling  in  vain  to  gain 
admittance.  At  the  close  of  the  services  he  was  over- 
whelmed with  the  expressions  of  gratitude  and  heartfelt 
sympathy  with  which  they  thanked  him  for  his  messages. 

He  was  feasted  and  dined  and  taken  out  into  the  parks 
behind  spanking  teams,  until  his  head  was  dizzy  with 
the  unaccustomed  whirl. 

The  Preacher  went  through  it  all  with  a  heavy  heart. 
Those  beautiful  homes  with  their  rich  carpets,  handsome 
furniture,  and  those  long  lines  of  beautiful  carriages  in 
the  parks,  made  a  contrast  with  the  agony  of  universal 
ruin  which  he  left  at  home  that  crushed  his  soul 


The  Red  Flag  of  the  Auctioneer         141 

He  hastened  to  tell  the  story  of  Mrs.  Gaston  to  a  genial 
old  merchant  who  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  him. 

A  tear  glistened  in  the  old  man's  eye  as  he  quickly  rose. 

"  Come  right  down  to  my  store.  I'll  get  you  a  money 
order  before  the  post-office  closes.  I've  got  tickets  for  you 
to  go  to  the  Coliseum  with  me  to-night  and  hear  the 
music! — the  great  Peace  Jubilee.  We  are  celebrating 
the  return  of  peace  and  prosperity,  and  the  preservation 
of  the  Union.  It's  the  greatest  musical  festival  the  world 
ever  saw." 

The  Preacher  was  dazed  with  the  sense  of  its  sub- 
limity and  the  pathetic  tragedy  of  the  South  that  lay 
back  of  its  joy. 

The  great  Coliseum,  constructed  for  the  purpose, 
seated  over  forty  thousand  people.  Such  a  crowd  he  had 
never  seen  gathered  together  within  one  building.  The 
soul  of*  the  orator  in  him  leaped  with  divine  power  as  he 
glanced  over  the  swaying  ocean  of  human  faces.  There 
were  twelve  thousand  trained  voices  in  the  chorus.  He 
had  dreamed  of  such  music  in  Heaven  when  countless 
hosts  of  angels  should  gather  around  God's  throne.  He 
had  never  expected  to  hear  it  on  this  earth.  He  was 
transported  with  a  rapture  that  thrilled  and  lifted  him 
above  the  consciousness  of  time  and  sense. 

They  rendered  the  masterpieces  of  all  the  ages.  The 
music  continued  hour  after  hour,  day  after  day,  and 
night  after  night. 

The  grand  chorus  within  the  Coliseum  was  accom- 
panied by  the  ringing  of  bells  in  the  city,  and  the  firing 
of  cannon  on  the  common,  discharged  in  perfect  time 
with  the  melody  that  rolled  upward  from  those  twelve 
thousand  voices  and  broke  against  the  gates  of  Heaven ! 
When  every  voice  was  in  full  cry,  and  every  instrument 
of  music  that  man  had  ever  devised,  throbbed  in  har- 
mony, and  a  hundred  anvils  were  ringing  a  chorus  of 


142  The  Leopard's  Spots 

steel  in  perfect  time,  Parepa  Rosa  stepped  forward  on 
the  great  stage,  and  in  a  voice  that  rang  its  splendid 
note  of  triumph  over  all  like  the  trumpet  of  the  arch- 
angel, sang  the  Star  Spangled  Banner! 

Men  and  women  fainted,  and  one  woman  died,  unable 
to  endure  the  strain.  The  Preacher  turned  his  head 
away  and  looked  out  of  the  window.  A  soft  wind  was 
blowing  from  the  South.  On  its  wings  were  borne  to 
his  heart  the  cry  of  the  widow  and  orphan,  the  hungry 
and  the  dying  still  being  trampled  to  death  by  a  war 
more  terrible  than  the  first,  because  it  was  waged  against 
the  unarmed,  women  and  children,  the  wounded,  the 
starving  and  the  defenceless !  He  tried  in  vain  to  keep 
back  the  tears.  Bending  low,  he  put  his  face  in  his  hands 
and  cried  like  a  child. 

"  God  forgive  them !  They  know  not  what  they  do !  " 
he  moaned. 

The  kindly  old  man  by  his  side  said  nothing,  suppos- 
ing he  was  overcome  by  the  grandeur  of  the  music. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  RALLY  OF  THE  CLANSMEN 

WHEN  the  Preacher  took  the  train  in  Boston 
for  the  South,  his  friendly  merchant,  a  dea- 
con, was  by  his  side. 

"  Now,  you  put  my  name  and  address  down  in  your 
note  book,  William  Crane.  And  don't  forget  about  us/' 

"  I'll  never  forget  you,  deacon." 

"Say,  I  just  as  well  tell  you,"  whispered  the  deacon 
bending  close,  "  we  are  not  going  to  allow  you  to  stay 
down  South.  We'll  be  down  after  you  before  long — 
just  as  well  be  packing  up ! " 

The  Preacher  smiled,  looked  out  of  the  car  window, 
and  made  no  reply. 

"  Well,  good-bye,  Doctor,  good-bye.  God  bless  you  and 
your  work  and  your  people !  You've  brought  me  a  mes- 
sage warm  from  God's  heart.  I'll  never  forget  it." 

"  Good-bye,  deacon." 

As  the  train  whirled  southward  through  the  rich 
populous  towns  and  cities  of  the  North,  again  the  sharp 
contrast  with  the  desolation  of  his  own  land  cut  him  like 
a  knife.  He  thought  of  Legree  and  Haley,  Perkins  and 
Tim  Shelby  robbing  widows  and  orphans  and  sweeping 
the  poverty-stricken  Southland  with  riot,  pillage,  murder 
and  brigandage,  and  posing  as  the  representatives  of  the 
conscience  of  the  North.  And  his  heart  was  heavy  with 
sorrow. 

On  reaching  Hambright  he  was  thunderstruck  at  the 

143 


144  The  Leopard's  Spots 

news  of  the  sale  of  Mrs.  Gaston's  place  and  her  tragic 
death. 

"  Why,  my  dear,  I  sent  the  money  to  her  on  the  first 
Monday  I  spent  in  Boston !  "  he  declared  to  his  wife. 

"  It  never  reached  her." 

"  Then  Dave  Haley,  the  dirty  slave  driver,  has  held 
that  letter.  I'll  see  to  this."  He  hurried  to  the  post- 
office. 

"  Mr.  Haley,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  sent  a  money  order 
letter  to  Mrs.  Gaston  from  Boston  on  Monday  a  week 
ago." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Haley  in  his  blandest  manner,  "  it 
got  here  the  day  after  the  sale." 

"  You're  an  infamous  liar !  "  shouted  the  Preacher. 

"  Of  course !  Of  course !  All  Union  men  are  liars  to 
hear  rebel  traitors  talk." 

"  I'll  report  you  to  Washington  for  this  rascality." 

"  So  do,  so  do.  Mor'n  likely  the  President  and  the 
Post-Office  Department  '11  be  glad  to  have  this  informa- 
tion from  so  great  a  man." 

As  the  Preacher  was  leaving  the  post-office  he  encoun- 
tered the  Hon.  Tim  Shelby  dressed  in  the  height  of  fash- 
ion, his  silk  hat  shining  in  the  sun,  and  his  eyes  rolling 
with  the  joy  of  living.  The  Preacher  stepped  squarely 
in  front  of  Tim. 

"  Tim  Shelby,  I  hear  you  have  moved  into  Mrs.  Gas- 
ton's  home  and  are  using  her  furniture.  By  whose 
authority  do  you  dare  such  insolence  ?  " 

"  By  authority  of  the  law,  sir.  Mrs.  Gaston  died  intes- 
tate. Her  effects  are  in  the  hands  of  our  County  Ad- 
ministrator, Mr.  Ezra  Perkins.  I'll  be  pleased  to  receive 
you,  sir,  any  time  you  would  like  to  call ! "  said  Tim 
with  a  bow. 

"  I'll  call  in  due  time,"  replied  the  'Preacher,  looking 
Tim  straight  in  the  eye. 


The  Rally  of  the  Clansmen  145 

Haley  had  been  peeping  through  the  window,  watching 
and  listening  to  this  encounter. 

"  These  charmin'  preachers  think  they  own  this 
county,  brother  Shelby,"  laughed  Haley  as  he  grasped 
Tim's  outstretched  hand. 

"  Yes,  they  are  the  curse  of  the  state.  I  wish  to  God 
they  had  succeeded  in  burning  him  alive  that  night  the 
boys  tried  it.  They'll  get  him  later  on.  Brother  Haley, 
he's  a  dangerous  man.  He  must  be  put  out  of  the  way, 
or  we'll  never  have  smooth  sailing  in  this  county." 

"  I  believe  you're  right,  he's  just  been  in  here  cussin' 
me  about  that  letter  of  the  widder's  that  didn't  get  to  her 
in  time.  He  thinks  he  can  run  the  post-office." 

"  Well,  we'll  show  him  this  county's  in  the  hands  of 
the  loyal !  "  added  Tim. 

"  Heard  the  news  from  Charleston  ?  " 

"  Heard  it  ?  I  guess  I  have.  I  talked  with  the  com- 
manding General  in  Charleston  two  weeks  ago.  He  told 
me  then  he  was  going  to  set  aside  that  decision  of  the 
Supreme  Court  in  a  ringing  order  permitting  the  mar- 
riage of  negroes  to  white  women,  and  commanding  its 
enforcement  on  every  military  post.  I  see  he's  done  it  in 
no  uncertain  words." 

"  It's  a  great  day,  brother,  for  the  world.  There'll  be 
no  more  colour  line.  " 

"  Yes,  times  have  changed,"  said  Tim  with  a  trium- 
phant smile.  "  I  guess  our  white  hot-bloods  will  sweat 
and  bluster  and  swear  a  little  when  they  read  that  order. 
But  we've  got  the  bayonets  to  enforce  it.  They'd  just 
as  well  cool  down." 

"That's  the  stuff,"  said  Haley,  taking  a  fresh  chew 
of  tobacco. 

"  Let  'em  squirm.  They're  flat  on  their  backs.  We 
are  on  top,  and  we  are  going  to  stay  on  top.  I  expect  to 
lead  a  fair  white  bride  into  my  house  before  another  year 


146  The  LeoparcTs  Spots 

and  have  poor  white  aristocrats  to  tend  my  lawn."  Tim 
worked  his  ears  and  looked  up  at  the  ceiling  in  a  dreamy 
sort  of  way. 

"  That'll  be  a  sight  won't  it !  "  exclaimed  Haley  with 
delight.  "  Where's  that  scoundrel  Nelse  that  lived  with 
Mrs.  Gaston?" 

"Oh,  we  fixed  him,"  said  Tim.  "The  black  rascal 
wouldn't  join  the  League,  and  wouldn't  vote  with  his 
people,  and  still  showed  fight  after  we  beat  him  half  to 
death,  so  we  put  a  levy  of  fifty  dollars  on  his  cabin,  sold 
him  out,  and  every  piece  of  furniture,  and  every  rag  of 
clothes  we  could  get  hold  of.  He'll  leave  the  country 
now,  or  we'll  kill  him  next  time." 

"  You  ought  to  a  killed  him  the  first  time,  and  then 
the  job  would  ha'  been  over." 

"  Oh,  we'll  have  the  country  in  good  shape  in  a  little 
while,  and  don't  you  forget  it." 

The  news  of  the  order  of  the  military  commandant  of 
"  District  No.  2,"  comprising  the  Carolinas,  abrogating 
the  decisions  of  the  North  Carolina  Supreme  Court,  for- 
bidding the  intermarriage  of  negroes  and  whites,  fell  like 
a  bombshell  on  Campbell  county.  The  people  had  not 
believed  that  the  military  authorities  would  dare  go  to 
the  length  of  attempting  to  force  social  equality. 

This  order  from  Charleston  was  not  only  explicit,  its 
language  was  peculiarly  emphatic.  It  apparently  com- 
manded intermarriage,  and  ordered  the  military  to  en- 
force the  command  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 

The  feelings  of  the  people  were  wrought  to  the  pitch 
of  fury.  It  needed  but  a  word  from  a  daring  leader,  and 
a  massacre  of  every  negro,  scalawag  and  carpet-bagger 
in  the  county  might  have  followed.  The  Rev.  John  Dur- 
ham was  busy  day  and  night  seeking  to  allay  excitement 
and  prevent  an  uprising  of  the  white  population. 

Along  with  the  announcement  of  this  military  order, 


The  Rally  of  the  Clansmen  147 

came  the  startling  news  that  Simon  Legree,  whose  in- 
famy was  known  from  end  to  end  of  the  state,  was  to 
be  the  next  Governor,  and  that  the  Hon.  Tim  Shelby  was 
a  candidate  for  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court. 

Legree  was  in  Washington  at  the  time  on  a  mission 
to  secure  a  stand  of  twenty  thousand  rifles  from  the 
Secretary  of  War,  with  which  to  arm  the  negro  troops 
he  was  drilling  for  the  approaching  election.  The  grant 
was  made  and  Legree  came  back  in  triumph  with  his 
rifles. 

Relief  for  the  ruined  people  was  now  a  hopeless  dream. 
Black  despair  was  clutching  at  every  white  man's  heart. 
The  taxpayers  had  held  a  convention  and  sent  their 
representatives  to  Washington  exposing  the  mon- 
strous thefts  that  were  being  committed  under  the  au- 
thority of  the  government  by  the  organised  band  of 
thieves  who  were  looting  the  state.  But  the  thieves  were 
the  pets  of  politicians  high  in  power.  The  committee  of 
taxpayers  were  insulted  and  sent  home  to  pay  their 
taxes. 

And  then  a  thing  happened  in  Hambright  that  brought 
matters  to  a  sudden  crisis. 

The  Hon.  Tim  Shelby  as  school  commissioner,  had 
printed  the  notices  for  an  examination  of  school  teachers 
for  Campbell  county.  An  enormous  tax  had  been  levied 
and  collected  by  the  county  for  this  purpose,  but  no 
school  had  been  opened.  Tim  announced,  however,  that 
the  school  would  be  surely  opened  the  first  Monday  in 
October. 

Miss  Mollie  Graham,  the  pretty  niece  of  the  old  doctor, 
was  struggling  to  support  a  blind  mother  and  four 
younger  children.  Her  father  and  brother  had  been 
killed  in  the  war.  Their  house  had  been  sold  for  taxes, 
and  they  were  required  now  to  pay  Tim  Shelby  ten  dol- 
lars a  month  for  rent.  When  she  saw  that  school  notice 


148  The  Leopard's  Spots 

her  heart  gave  a  leap.  If  she  could  only  get  the  place, 
it  would  save  them  from  beggary. 

She  fairly  ran  to  the  Preacher  to  get  his  advice. 

"  Certainly,  child,  try  for  it.  It's  humiliating  to  ask 
such  a  favour  of  that  black  ape,  but  if  you  can  save  your 
loved  ones,  do  it." 

\So  with  trembling  hand  she  knocked  at  Tim's  door. 
He  required  all  applicants  to  apply  personally  at  his  house. 
Tim  met  her  with  the  bows  and  smirks  of  a  dancing 
master. 

"  Delighted  to  see  your  pretty  face  this  morning,  Miss 
Graham,"  he  cried  enthusiastically. 

The  girl  blushed  and  hesitated  at  the  door. 

"  Just  walk  right  in  the  parlour,  I'll  join  you  in  a 
moment." 

She  bravely  set  her  lips  and  entered. 

"  And  now  what  can  I  do  for  you,  Miss  Graham  ?  " 

"  I've  come  to  apply  for  a  teacher's  place  in  the  school." 

"  Ah  indeed,  I'm  glad  to  know  that.  There  is  only  one 
difficulty.  You  must  be  loyal.  Your  people  were  rebels, 
and  the  new  government  has  determined  to  have  only 
loyal  teachers." 

"  I  think  I'm  loyal  enough  to  the  old  flag  now  that  our 
people  have  surrendered,"  said  the  girl. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  dare  say,  but  do  you  think  you  can  accept 
the  new  regime  of  government  and  society  which  we  are 
now  establishing  in  the  South?  We  have  abolished  the 
colour  line.  Would  you  have  a  mixed  school  if  assigned 
one?" 

"  I  think  I'd  prefer  to  teach  a  negro  school  outright 
to  a  mixed  one,"  she  said  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 

Tim  continued,  "  You  know  we  are  living  in  a  new 
world.  The  supreme  law  of  the  land  has  broken  down 
every  barrier  of  race  and  we  are  henceforth  to  be  one 
people.  The  struggle  for  existence  knows  no  race  or 


The  Rally  of  the  Clansmen  149 

colour.  It's  a  struggle  now  for  bread.  I'm  in  a  position 
to  be  of  great  fielp  to  you  and  your  family  if  you  will 
only  let  me." 

The  girl  suddenly  rose  impelled  by  some  resistless 
instinct. 

"  May  I  have  the  place  then  ? "  she  asked  approaching 
the  door. 

"  Well,  now  you  know  it  depends  really  altogether  on 
my  fancy.  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  You're  still  full  of 
silly  prejudices.  I  can  see  that.  But  if  you  will  over- 
come them  enough  to  do  one  thing  for  me  as  a  test,  that 
will  cost  you  nothing  and  of  which  the  world  will  never 
be  the  wiser,  I'll  give  you  the  place  and  more,  I'll  remit 
the  ten  dollars  a  month  rent  you're  now  paying.  Will 
you  do  it?  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  the  girl  asked  with  pale  quivering  lips. 

"  Let  me  kiss  you — once !  "  he  whispered. 

With  a  scream,  she  sprang  past  him  out  of  the  door, 
ran  like  a  deer  across  the  lawn,  and  fell  sobbing  in  her 
mother's  arms  when  she  reached  her  home. 

The  next  day  the  town  was  unusually  quiet.  Tim  had 
business  with  the  Commandant  of  the  company  of  regu- 
lars still  quartered  at  Hambright.  He  spent  most  of  the 
day  with  him,  and  walked  about  the  streets  ostentatiously 
showing  his  familiarity  with  the  corporal  who  accom- 
panied him.  A  guard  of  three  soldiers  was  stationed 
around  Tim's  house  for  two  nights  and  then  withdrawn. 

The  next  night  at  twelve  o'clock  two  hundred  white- 
robed  horses  assembled  around  the  old  home  of  Mrs. 
Gaston  where  Tim  was  sleeping.  The  moon  was  full 
and  flooded  the  lawn  with  silver  glory.  On  those  horses 
sat  two  hundred  white-robed  silent  men  whose  close- 
fitting  hood  disguises  looked  like  the  mail  helmets  of 
ancient  knights. 

It  was  the  work  of  a  moment  to  seize  Tim,  and  bind 


150  The  Leopard's  Spots 

him  across  a  horse's  back.     Slowly  the  grim  procession 
moved  to  the  court  house  square. 

When  the  sun  rose  next  morning  the  lifeless  body  of 
Tim  Shelby  was  dangling  from  a  rope  tied  to  the  iron 
rail  of  the  balcony  of  the  court  house.  His  neck  was 
broken  and  his  body  was  hanging  low — scarcely  three 
feet  from  the  ground.  His  thick  lips  had  been  split  with 
a  sharp  knife  and  from  his  teeth  hung  this  placard: 

"  The  answer  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  to 
Negro  lips  that  dare  pollute  with  words  the 
womanhood  of  the  South.  K.  K.  K." 

And  the  Ku  Klux  Klan  was  master  of  Campbell  county. 

The  origin  of  this  Law  and  Order  League  which 
sprang  up  like  magic  in  a  night  and  nullified  the  pro- 
gramme of  Congress  though  backed  by  an  army  of  a 
million  veteran  soldiers,  is  yet  a  mystery. 

The  simple  truth  is,  it  was  a  spontaneous  and  resist- 
less racial  uprising  of  clansmen  of  highland  origin  living 
along  the  Appalachian  mountains  and  foothills  of  the 
South,  and  it  appeared  almost  simultaneously  in  every 
Southern  state  produced  by  the  same  terrible  conditions. 

It  was  the  answer  to  their  foes  of  a  proud  and  in- 
domitable race  of  men  driven  to  the  wall.  In  the  hour 
of  their  defeat  they  laid  down  their  arms  and  accepted 
in  good  faith  the  results  of  the  war.  And  then,  when 
unarmed  and  defenceless,  a  group  of  pot-house  politicians 
for  political  ends,  renewed  the  war,  and  attempted  to 
wipe  out  the  civilisation  of  the  South. 

This  Invisible  Empire  of  White  Robed  Anglo-Saxon 
Knights  was  simply  the  old  answer  of  organised  man- 
hood to  organised  crime.  Its  purpose  was  to  bring  order 
out  of  chaos,  protect  the  weak  and  defenceless,  the  widows 
and  orphans  of  brave  men  who  had  died  for  their  coun- 
try, to  drive  from  power  the  thieves  who  were  robbing 


The  Rally  of  the  Clansmen  151 

the  people,  redeem  the  commonwealth  from  infamy,  and 
reestablish  civilisation. 

Within  one  week  from  its  appearance,  life  and  prop- 
erty were  as  safe  as  in  any  Northern  community. 

When  the  negroes  came  home  from  their  League  meet- 
ing one  night  they  ran  terror  stricken  past  long  rows  of 
white  horsemen.  Not  a  word  was  spoken,  but  that  was 
the  last  meeting  the  "  Union  League  of  America  "  ever 
held  in  Hambright. 

Every  negro  found  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor  was 
promptly  thrashed  and  warned  against  its  recurrence. 
The  sudden  appearance  of  this  host  of  white  cavalry 
grasping  at  their  throats  with  the  grip  of  cold  steel  struck 
the  heart  of  Legree  and  his  followers  with  the  chill  of  a 
deadly  fear. 

It  meant  inevitable  ruin,  overthrow,  and  a  prison  cell 
for  the  "  loyal "  statesmen  who  were  with  him  in  his 
efforts  to  maintain  the  new  "  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment "  in  North  Carolina. 

At  the  approaching  election,  this  white  terror  could 
intimidate  every  negro  in  the  state  unless  he  could  arm 
them  all,  suspend  the  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus,  and  place 
every  county  under  the  strictest  martial  law. 

Washington  was  besieged  by  a  terrified  army  of  the 
"  loyal "  who  saw  their  occupation  threatened.  They 
begged  for  more  troops,  more  guns  for  negro  militia,  and 
for  the  reestablishment  of  universal  martial  law  until  the 
votes  were  properly  counted. 

But  the  great  statesmen  laughed  them  to  scorn  as  a 
set  of  weak  cowards  and  fools  frightened  by  negro  stories 
of  ghosts.  It  was  incredible  to  them  that  the  crushed, 
poverty  stricken  and  unarmed  South  could  dare  challenge 
the  power  of  the  National  Government  They  were  sent 
back  with  scant  comfort. 

The  night  that  Ezra  Perkins  and  Haley  got  back  from 


152  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Washington,  where  they  had  gone  summoned  by  Legree 
and  Hogg,  to  testify  to  the  death  of  Tim  Shelby,  they 
saw  a  sight  that  made  their  souls  quake. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  Ku  Klux  Klan  held  a  formal  parade 
through  the  streets  of  Hambright.  How  the  news  was 
circulated  nobody  knew,  but  it  seemed  everybody  in  the 
county  knew  of  it.  The  streets  were  lined  with  thousands 
of  people  who  had  poured  in  town  that  afternoon. 

At  exactly  ten  o'clock,  a  bugle  call  was  heard  on  the 
hill  to  the  west  of  the  town,  and  the  muffled  tread  of  soft 
shod  horses  came  faintly  on  their  ears.  Women  stood  on 
the  sidewalks,  holding  their  babies  and  smiling,  and 
children  were  laughing  and  playing  in  the  streets. 

They  rode  four  abreast  in  perfect  order  slowly  through 
the  town.  It  was  utterly  impossibly  to  recognise  a  man 
or  a  horse,  so  complete  was  the  simple  disguise  of  the 
white  sheet  which  blanketed  the  horse  fitting  closely  over 
his  head  and  ears  and  falling  gracefully  over  his  form 
toward  the  ground. 

No  citizen  of  Hambright  was  in  the  procession.  They 
were  all  in  the  streets  watching  it  pass.  There  were  fif- 
teen hundred  men  in  line.  But  the  reports  next  day  all 
agreed  in  fixing  the  number  at  over  five  thousand. 

Perkins  and  Haley  had  watched  it  from  a  darkened 
room. 

"  Brother  Haley,  that's  the  end !  Lord  I  wish  I  was 
back  in  Michigan,  jail  er  no  jail/'  said  Perkins  mopping 
the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

"  We'll  have  ter  dig  out  purty  quick,  I  reckon,"  an- 
swered Haley. 

"  And  to  think  them  fools  at  Washington  laughed  at 
us !  "  cried  Perkins  clinching  his  fists. 

And  that  night,  mothers  and  fathers  gathered  their 
children  to  bed  with  a  sense  of  grateful  security  they  had 
not  felt  through  years  of  war  and  turmoil. 


rriH 


CHAPTER  XX 
HOW  CIVILISATION  WAS  SAVED 

E  success  of  the  Ku  Klux  Klan  was  so  com- 
plete, its  organisers  were  dazed.     Its  appeal  to 

-*-  the  ignorance  and  superstition  of  the  Negro  at 
once  reduced  the  race  to  obedience  and  order.  Its  threat 
against  the  scalawag  and  carpet-bagger  struck  terror 
to  their  craven  souls,  and  the  "  Union  League,"  "  Red 
Strings,"  and  "  Heroes  of  America  "  went  to  pieces  with 
incredible  rapidity. 

Major  Stuart  Dameron,  the  chief  of  the  Klan  in  Camp- 
bell county  was  holding  a  conference  with  the  Rev.  John 
Durham  in  his  study. 

"  Doctor,  our  work  has  succeeded  beyond  our  wildest 
dream." 

"  Yes,  and  I  thank  God  we  can  breathe  freely  if  only 
for  a  moment,  Major.  The  danger  now  lies  in  our 
success.  We  are  necessarily  playing  with  fire." 

"  I  know  it,  and  it  requires  my  time  day  and  night  to 
prevent  reckless  men  from  disgracing  us." 

"  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  enforce  the  death  penalty 
against  any  other -man  in  this  county,  Major.  The  exe- 
cution of  Tim  Shelby  was  absolutely  necessary  at  the 
time  and  it  has  been  sufficient." 

"  I  agree  with  you.  I've  impressed  this  on  the  master 
of  every  lodge,  but  some  of  them  are  growing  reckless." 

"Who  are  they?" 

"  Young  Allan  McLeod  for  one.  He  is  a  dare  devil 
and  only  eighteen  years  old. 

153 


154  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  He's  a  troublesome  boy.  I  don't  seem  to  have  any 
influence  with  him.  But  I  think  Mrs.  Durham  can 
manage  him.  He  seems  to  think  a  great  deal  of  her,  and 
in  spite  of  his  wild  habits,  he  comes  regularly  to  her 
Sunday  School  class." 

"  I  hope  she  can  bring  him  to  his  senses." 
"  Leave  him  to  me  then  a  while.     We  will  see  what 
can  be  done." 

***** 

Hogg's  Legislature  promptly  declared  the  Scotch-Irish 
hill  counties  in  a  state  of  insurrection,  passed  a  militia 
bill,  and  the  Governor  issued  a  proclamation  suspending 
the  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus  in  these  counties. 

Fearing  the  effects  of  negro  militia  in  the  hill  districts, 
he  surprised  Hambright  by  suddenly  marching  into  the 
court  house  square  a  regiment  of  white  mountain  guer- 
rillas recruited  from  the  outlaws  of  East  Tennessee  and 
commanded  by  a  noted  desperado,  Colonel  Henry  Berry. 
The  regiment  had  two  pieces  of  field  artillery. 

It  was  impossible  for  them  to  secure  evidence  against 
any  member  of  the  Klan  unless  by  the  intimidation  of 
some  coward  who  could  be  made  to  confess.  Not  a  dis- 
guise had  ever  been  penetrated.  It  was  the  rule  of  the 
order  for  its  decrees  to  be  executed  in  the  district  issuing 
the  decree  by  the  lodge  furthest  removed  in  the  county 
from  the  scene.  In  this  way  not  a  man  or  a  horse  was 
ever  identified. 

The  Colonel  made  an  easy  solution  of  this  difficulty, 
however.  Acting  under  instructions  from  Governor 
Hogg,  he  secured  from  Haley  and  Perkins  a  list  of  every 
influential  man  in  every  precinct  in  the  county,  and  a  list 
of  possible  turncoats  and  cowards.  He  detailed  five  hun- 
dred of  his  men  to  make  arrests,  distributed  them  through- 
out the  county  and  arrested  without  warrants  over  two 
hundred  citizens  in  one  day. 


How  Civilisation  Was  Saved  *  155 

The  next  day  Berry  hand-cuffed  together  the  Rev.  John 
Durham  and  Major  Dameron,  and  led  them  escorted  by  a 
company  of  cavalry  on  a  grand  circuit  of  the  county, 
that  the  people  might  be  terrified  by  the  sight  of  their 
chains.  An  ominous  silence  greeted  them  on  every  hand. 
Additional  arrests  were  made  by  this  troop  and  twenty- 
five  more  prisoners  led  into  Hambright  the  next  day. 

The  jail  was  crowded,  and  the  court  house  was  used 
as  a  jail.  Over  a  hundred  and  fifty  men  were  confined 
in  the  court  room.  Rev.  John  Durham  was  everywhere 
among  the  crowd,  laughing,  joking  and  cheering  the 
men. 

"  Major  Dameron,  a  jail  never  held  so  many  honest 
men  before,"  he  said  with  a  smile,  as  he  looked  over  the 
crowd  of  his  church  members  gathered  from  every 
quarter  of  the  county. 

"  Well,  Doctor,  you've  got  a  quorum  here  of  your 
church  and  you  can  call  them  to  order  for  business." 

"That's  a  fact,  isn't  it?" 

"  There's  old  Deacon  Kline  over  there  who  looks  like 
he  wished  he  hadn't  come !  "  The  Preacher  walked  over 
to  the  deacon. 

"  What' s  the  matter,  brother  Kline,  you  look  pensive  ?  " 

The  deacon  laughed.  "  Yes,  I  don't  like  my  bed.  I'm 
used  to  feathers." 

"Well,  they  say  they  are  going  to  give  you  feathers 
mixed  with  tar  so  you  won't  lose  them  so  easily/' 

"  I'll  have  company,  I  reckon,"  said  the  deacon  with 
a  wink. 

"  The  funny  thing,  deacon,  is  that  Major  Dameron  tells 
me  there  isn't  a  man  in  all  the  crowd  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  arrested  who  ever  went  on  a  raid.  It's  too  bad 
you  old  fellows  have  to  pay  for  the  follies  of  youth." 

"  It  is  tough.  But  we  can  stand  it,  Preacher."  They 
clasped  hands. 


156  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Haven't  smelled  a  coward  anywhere  have  you,  dea- 
con?" 

"  I've  seen  one  or  two  a  little  fidgety,  I  thought.  Cheer 
'em  up  with  a  word,  Preacher." 

Springing  on  the  platform  of  the  judge's  desk  he  looked 
over  the  crowd  for  a  moment,  and  a  cheer  shook  the 
building. 

"  Boys,  I  don't  believe  there's  a  single  coward  in  our 
ranks."  Another  cheer. 

"  Just  keep  cool  now  and  let  our  enemies  do  the  talk- 
ing. In  ten  days  every  man  of  you  will  be  back  at  home 
at  his  work." 

"  How  will  we  get  out  with  the  writ  suspended  ? " 
asked  a  man  standing  near. 

"  That's  the  richest  thing  of  all.  A  United  States  judge 
has  just  decided  that  the  Governor  of  the  state  cannot 
suspend  the  rights  of  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  under 
the  new  Fourteenth  Amendment  to  the  Constitution  so 
.recently  rammed  down  our  throats.  Hogg  is  hoisted  on 
his  own  petard.  Our  lawyers  are  now  serving  out  writs 
of  Habeas  Corpus  before  this  Federal  judge  under  the 
Fourteenth  Amendment,  and  you  will  be  discharged  in 
less  than  ten  days  unless  there's  a  skunk  among  you.  And 
I  don't  smell  one  anywhere."  Again  a  cheer  shook  the 
building. 

An  orderly  walked  up  to  the  Preacher  and  handed  him 
a  note. 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Read  it !  "    The  men  crowded  around. 

"  Read  it,  Major  Dameron,  I'm  dumb,"  said  the 
Preacher. 

"  A  military  order  from  the  dirty  rascal,  Berry,  com- 
manding the  mountain  bummers,  forbidding  the  Rev. 
John  Durham  to  speak  during  his  imprisonment !  " 

A  roar  of  laughter  followed  this  announcement. 


How  Civilisation  Was  Saved  157 

"  That's  cruel !  Ml  kill  him !  "  cried  deacon  Kline  as 
he  jabbed  the  Preacher  in  the  ribs. 

In  a  few  minutes,  the  Preacher  was  back  in  his  place 
with  five  of  the  best  singers  from  his  church  by  his  side. 
He  began  to  sing  the  old  hymns  of  Zion  and  every  man 
in  the  room  joined  until  the  building  quivered  with 
melody. 

"  Now  a  good  old  Yankee  hymn,  that  suits  this  hour, 
written  by  an  an  old  Baptist  preacher  I  met  in  Boston  the 
other  day !  "  cried  the  Preacher. 

"  My  country  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 
Of  thee  I  sing  ! " 

Heavens,  how  they  sang  it,  while  the  Preacher  lined  it 
off,  stood  above  them  beating  time,  and  led  in  a  clear 
mighty  voice!  Again  the  orderly  appeared  with  a 
note. 

"  What  is  it  now  ?  "  they  cried  on  every  side. 

Again  Major  Dameron  announced  "  Military  order  No. 
2,  forbidding  the  Rev.  John  Durham  to  sing  or  induce 
anybody  to  sing  while  in  prison." 

Another  roar  of  laughter  that  broke  into  a  cheer  which 
made  the  glass  rattle  When  the  soldier  had  disappeared, 
the  Rev.  John  Durham  ascended  the  platform,  looked 
about  him  with  a  humourous  twinkle  in  his  eye,  straight- 
ened himself  to  his  full  height  and  crowed  like  a  rooster ! 
A  cheer  shook  the  building  to  its  foundations.  Roar 
after  roar  of  its  defiant  cadence  swept  across  the  square 
and  made  Haley  and  Perkins  tremble  as  they  looked  at 
each  other  over  their  conference  table  with  Berry. 

"  What  the  devil's  the  matter  now  ?  "  cried  Haley. 

"  Do  you  suppose  it's  a  rescue  ?  "  whispered  Perkins. 

"  No,  it's  some  new  trick  of  that  damned  Preacher.  I'll 
chain  him  in  a  room  to  himself,"  growled  Berry. 


158  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Better  not,  Colonel.  He's  the  pet  of  these  white 
devils.  Ye'd  better  let  him  alone."  Berry  accepted  the 
advice. 

Five  days  later  the  prisoners  were  arraigned  before 
the  United  States  judge,  Preston  Rivers,  at  Independence. 
Not  a  scrap  of  evidence  could  be  produced  against  them. 
Governor  Hogg  was  present,  with  a  flaming  military  es- 
cort. He  held  a  stormy  interview  with  Judge  Rivers. 

"  If  you  discharge  these  prisoners,  you  destroy  the 
government  of  this  state,  sir !  "  thundered  Hogg. 

"  Are  they  not  citizens  of  the  United  States  ?  Does 
not  the  Fourteenth  Amendment  apply  to  a  white  man  as 
well  as  a  negro?"  quietly  asked  the  judge. 

"  Yes,  but  they  are  conspirators  against  the  Union. 
They  are  murderers  and  felons." 

"  Then  prove  it  in  my  court  and  I'll  hand  them  back 
to  you.  They  are  entitled  to  a  trial,  under  our  Constitu- 
tion/' 

"  I'll  demand  your  removal  by  the  President,"  shouted 
Hogg. 

"  Get  out  of  this  room,  or  I'll  remove  you  with  the 
point  of  my  boot !  "  thundered  the  judge  with  rising 
wrath.  "  You  have  suspended  the  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus 
to  win  a  political  campaign.  The  Ku  Klux  Klan  has 
broken  up  your  Leagues.  You  are  fighting  for  your 
life.  But  I'll  tell  you  now,  you  can't  suspend  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States  while  I'm  a  Federal  judge 
in  this  state.  I  am  not  a  henchman  of  yours  to  do  your 
dirty  campaign  work.  The  election  is  but  ten  days 
off.  Your  scheme  is  plain  enough.  But  if  you  want 
to  keep  these  men  in  prison  it  will  be  done  on  sworn 
evidence  of  guilt  and  a  warrant,  not  on  your  personal 
whim." 

The  Governor  cursed,  raved  and  threatened  in  vain. 
Judge  Rivers  discharged  every  prisoner  and  warned  Col- 


How  Civilisation  Was  Saved  159 

onel  Berry  against  the  repetition  of  such  arrests  within 
his  jurisdiction. 

When  these  prisoners  were  discharged,  a  great  mass- 
meeting  was  called  to  give  them  a  reception  in  the  public 
square  of  Independence.  A  platform  was  hastily  built 
in  the  square  and  that  night  five  thousand  excited  people 
crowded  past  the  stand,  shook  hands  with  the  men  and 
cheered  till  they  were  hoarse.  The  Governor  watched  the 
demonstration  in  helpless  fury  from  his  room  in  the 
hotel. 

The  speaking  began  at  nine  o'clock.  Every  discordant 
element  of  the  old  South's  furious  political  passions  was 
now  melted  into  harmonious  unity.  Whig  and  Demo- 
crat who  had  fought  one  another  with  relentless  hatred 
sat  side  by  side  on  that  platform.  Secessionist  and  Union- 
ist now  clasped  hands.  It  was  a  White  Man's  Party,  and 
against  it  stood  in  solid  array  the  Black  Man's  Party,  led 
by  Simon  Legree. 

Henceforth  there  could  be  but  one  issue,  are  you  a 
White  Man  or  a  Negro? 

They  declared  there  was  but  one  question  to  be 
settled : — 

"Shall  the  future  American  be  an  Anglo-Saxon  or  a 
Mulatto?" 

These  determined  impassioned  men  believed  that  this 
question  was  more  important  than  any  theory  of  tariff  or 
finance  and  that  it  was  larger  than  the  South,  or  even 
the  nation,  and  held  in  its  solution  the  brightest  hopes 
of  the  progress  of  the  human  race.  And  they  believed 
that  they  were  ordained  of  God  in  this  crisis  to  give  this 
question  its  first  authoritative  answer. 

The  state  burst  into  a  flame  of  excitement  that  fused 
in  its  white  heat  the  whole  Anglo-Saxon  race. 

In  vain  Hogg  marched  and  counter-marched  his 
twenty  thousand  state  troops.  They  only  added  fuel  to 


160  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  fire.  If  they  arrested  a  man,  he  became  forthwith  a 
hero  and  was  given  an  ovation.  They  sent  bands  of  music 
and  played  at  the  jail  doors,  and  the  ladies  filled  the  jail 
with  every  delicacy  that  could  tempt  the  appetite  or  ap- 
peal to  the  senses. 

Hogg  and  Legree  were  in  a  panic  of  fear  with  the 
certainty  of  defeat,  exposure  and  a  felon's  cell  yawning 
before  them. 

Two  days  before  the  election,  the  prayer  meeting  was 
held  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  Baptist  church  at  Ham- 
bright.  It  was  the  usual  mid-week  service,  but  the  at- 
tendance was  unusually  large. 

After  the  meeting,  the  Preacher,  Major  Dameron,  and 
eleven  men  quietly  walked  back  to  the  church  and  as- 
sembled in  the  pastor's  study.  The  door  opened  at  the 
rear  of  the  church  and  could  be  approached  by  a  side 
street. 

"  Gentlemen/'  said  Major  Dameron,  "  I've  asked  you 
here  to-night  to  deliver  to  you  the  most  important  order 
I  have  ever  given,  and  to  have  Dr.  Durham  as  our  chap- 
lain to  aid  me  in  impressing  on  you  its  great  urgency." 
"  We're  ready  for  orders,  Chief,"  said  young  Ambrose 
Kline,  the  deacon's  son. 

"  You  are  to  call  out  every  troop  of  the  Klan  in  full 
force  the  night  before  the  election.  You  are  to  visit 
every  negro  in  the  county,  and  warn  every  one  as  he 
values  his  life  not  to  approach  the  polls  at  this  election. 
Those  who  come,  will  be  allowed  to  vote  without  molesta- 
tion. All  cowards  will  stay  at  home.  Any  man,  black 
or  white,  who  can  be  scared  out  of  his  ballot  is  not  fit  to 
have  one.  Back  of  every  ballot  is  the  red  blood  of  the  man 
that  votes.  The  ballot  is  force.  This  is  simply  a  test  of 
manhood.  It  will  be  enough  to  show  who  is  fit  to  rule  the 
state.  As  the  masters  of  the  eleven  township  lodges  of 
the  Klan,  you  are  the  sole  guardians  of  society  to-day. 


How  Civilisation  Was  Saved  161 

When  a  civilised  government  has  been  restored,  your 
work  will  be  done. 

"  We  will  do  it,  sir,"  cried  Kline. 

"  Let  me  say,  men,"  said  the  Preacher,  "  that  I  heartily 
endorse  the  plan  of  your  chief.  See  that  the  work  is 
done  thoroughly  and  it  will  be  done  for  all  time.  In  a 
sense  this  is  fraud.  But  it  is  the  fraud  of  war.  The  spy 
is  a  fraud,  but  we  must  use  him  when  we  fight.  Is 
war  justifiable? 

"  It  is  too  late  now  for  us  to  discuss  that  question.  We 
are  in  a  war,  the  most  ghastly  and  hellish  ever  waged,  a 
war  on  women  and  children,  the  starving  and  the 
wounded,  and  that  with  sharpened  swords.  The  Turk 
and  Saracen  once  waged  such  a  war.  We  must  face  it 
and  fight  it  out.  Shall  we  flinch?  " 

"  No !  no ! "  came  the  passionate  answer  from  every 
man. 

"  You  are  asked  to  violate  for  the  moment  a  statutory 
law.  There  is  a  higher  law.  You  are  the  sworn  officers 
of  that  higher  law." 

The  group  of  leaders  left  the  church  with  enthusiasm 
and  on  the  following  night  they  carried  out  their  instruc- 
tions to  the  letter. 

The  election  was  remarkably  quiet.  Thousands  of 
soldiers  were  used  at  the  polls  by  Hogg's  orders.  But 
they  seemed  to  make  no  impression  on  the  determined 
men  who  marched  up  between  their  files  and  put  the  bal- 
lots in  the  box. 

Legree's  ticket  was  buried  beneath  an  avalanche.  The 
new  "  Conservative "  party  carried  every  county  in  the 
state  save  twelve  and  elected  one  hundred  and  six  mem- 
bers of  the  new  Legislature  out  of  a  total  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty. 

The  next  day  hundreds  of  carpet-bagger  thieves  fled  to 
the  North,  and  Legree  led  the  procession. 


1 62  The  LeoparcTs  Spots 

Legree  had  on  deposit  in  New  York  two  millions  of 
dollars,  and  the  total  amount  of  his  part  of  the  thefts  he 
had  engineered  reached  five  millions.  He  opened  an 
office  on  Wall  Street,  bought  a  seat  in  the  Stock  Ex- 
change, and  became  one  of  the  most  daring  and  suc- 
cessful of  a  group  of  robbers  who  preyed  on  the  indus- 
tries of  the  nation. 

The  new  Legislature  appointed  a  Fraud  Commission 
which  uncovered  the  infamies  of  the  Legree  regime,  but 
every  thief  had  escaped.  They  promptly  impeached  the 
Governor  and  removed  him  from  office,  and  the  old  com- 
monwealth once  more  lifted  up  her  head  and  took  her 
place  in  the  ranks  of  civilised  communities. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  NEGRO 

NELSE  was  elated  over  the  defeat  and  dissolution 
of  the  Leagues  that  had  persecuted  him  with 
such  malignant  hatred.  When  the  news  of  the 
election  came  he  was  still  in  bed  suffering  from  his 
wounds.  He  had  received  an  internal  injury  that  threat- 
ened to  prove  fatal. 

"  Dar  now !  "  he  cried,  sitting  up  in  bed,  "  Ain't  I  done 
tole  you  no  kinky-headed  niggers  gwine  ter  run  dis  gov'- 
ment!" 

"  Keep  still  dar,  ole  man,  you'll  be  faintin'  ergin," 
worried  Aunt  Eve. 

"  Na  honey,  Fse  feelin'  better.  Gwine  ter  git  up  and 
meander  down  town  en  ax  dem  niggers  how's  de  Ku 
Kluxes  comin'  on  dese  days.  " 

In  spite  of  all  Eve  could  say  he  crawled  out  of  bed, 
fumbled  into  his  clothes  and  started  down  town,  leaning 
heavily  on  his  cane.  He  had  gone  about  a  block,  when 
he  suddenly  reeled  and  fell.  Eve  was  watching  him 
from  the  door,  and  was  quickly  by  his  side.  He  died  that 
afternoon  at  three  o'clock.  He  regained  consciousness 
before  the  end,  and  asked  Eve  for  his  banjo. 

He  put  it  lovingly  into  the  hands  of  Charlie  Gaston 
who  stood  by  the  bed  crying. 

"  You  keep  'er,  honey.  You  lub  'er  talk  better'n  any 
body  in  de  worl',  en  'member  Nelse  when  you  hear  'er 
moan  en  sigh.  En  when  she  talk  short  en  sassy  en  make 


164  The  Leopard's  Spots 

'em  all  gin  ter  shuffle,  dat's  me  too.     Dat's  me  got  back 


in  'er.  " 


Charlie  Gaston  rode  with  Aunt  Eve  to  the  cemetery. 
He  walked  back  home  through  the  fields  with  Dick. 

"  I  wouldn'  cry  'bout  er  ole  nigger ! "  said  Dick  look- 
ing into  his  reddened  eyes. 

"  Can't  help  it.    He  was  my  best  friend." 

"Haint  I  wid  you?" 

"  Yes,  but  you  ain't  Nelse." 

"  Well,  I  stan'  by  you  des  de  same." 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  DANGER  OF  PLAYING  WITH  FIRE 

THE  following  Saturday  the  Rev.  John  Durham 
preached  at  a  cross  roads  school  house  in  the 
woods  about  ten  miles  from  Hambright.  He 
preached  every  Saturday  in  the  year  at  such  a  mission 
station.  He  was  fond  of  taking  Charlie  with  him  on 
these  trips.  There  was  an  unusually  large  crowd  in 
attendance,  and  the  Preacher  was  much  pleased  at  this 
evidence  of  interest.  It  had  been  a  hard  community 
to  impress.  At  the  close  of  the  services,  while  the 
Preacher  was  shaking  han^s  with  the  people,  Charlie 
elbowed  his  way  rapidly  among  the  throng  to  his  side. 

"  Doctor,  there's  a  nigger  man  out  at  the  buggy  says 
he  wants  to  see  you  quick,"  he  whispered. 

"  All  right,  Charlie,  in  a  minute." 

"  Says  to  come  right  now.  It's  a  matter  of  life  and 
death,  and  he  don't  want  to  come  into  the  crowd." 

A  troubled  look  flashed  over  the  Preacher's  face  and 
he  hastily  followed  the  boy,  fearing  now  a  sinister  mean- 
ing to  his  great  crowd. 

"  Preacher,"  said  the  negro  looking  timidly  around, 
"  de  Ku  Klux  is  gwine  ter  kill  ole  Uncle1  Rufus  Latti- 
more  ter  night.  I  come  ter  see  ef  you  can't  save  him. 
He  aint  done  nuthin'  in  God's  worl'  'cept  he  would'h' 
pull  his  waggin  clear  outen  de  road  one  day  fur  dat  red- 
headed Allan  McLeod  ter  pass,  en  he  cussed  'im  black 
and  blue  en  tole  'im  he  gwine  git  eben  wid  'im." 

165 


1 66  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  How  do  you  know  this  ?  " 

.  "  I  wuz  huntin'  in  de  woods  en  hear  a  racket  en  clim' 
er  tree.  En  de  Ku  Kluxes  had  der  meetin'  right  under 
de  tree.  En  I  hear  ev'ry  word." 

"  Who  was  leading  the  crowd  ?  " 

"  Dat  Allan  McLeod,  en  Hose  Norman." 

"  Where  are  they  going  to  meet  ?  " 

"  Right  at  de  cross-roads  here  at  de  school  house  at 
mid-night.  Dey  sont  er  man  atter  plenty  er  licker  en  dey 
gwine  ter  git  drunk  fust.  I  was  erfeered  ter  come  ter  de 
meetin'  case  I  see  er  lot  er  de  boys  in  de  crowd.  Fur 
de  Lawd  sake,  Preacher,  do  save  de  ole  man.  He  des  es 
harmless  ez  er  chile.  En  I'm  gwine  ter  marry  his  gal, 
en  she  des  plum  crazy.  We'se  got  five  men  ter  fight  fur 
'im  but  I  spec  dey  kill  'em  all  ef  you  can't  he'p  us." 

"  ^.re  you  one  of  General  Worth's  negroes  ?  " 

"  Yassir.  I  run  erway  up  here,  'bout  dat  Free'mens 
Bureau  trick  dey  put  me  up  ter,  but  I'se  larned  better 
sense  now." 

"  Well,  Sam,  you  go  to  Uncle  Rufus  and  tell  him  not 
to  be  afraid.  I'll  stop  this  business  before  night." 

The  negro  stepped  into  the  woods  and  disappeared. 

"  Charlie,  we  must  hurry,"  said  the  Preacher  springing 
in  his  buggy.  He  was  driving  a  beautiful  bay  mare,  a 
gift  from  a  Kentucky  friend.  Her  sleek  glistening  skin 
and  big  round  veins  showed  her  fine  blood. 

"  Well,  Nancy,  it's  your  life  now  or  a  man's,  or  maybe 
a  dozen.  You  must  take  us  to  Hambright  in  fifty  min- 
utes over  these  rough  hills ! "  cried  the  Preacher.  And 
he  gave  her  the  reins. 

The  mare  bounded  forward  with  a  rush  that  sent  four 
spinning  circles  of  sand  and  dust  from  each  wheel.  She 
had  seldom  felt  the  lines  slacken  across  her  beautiful  back 
except  in  some  great  emergency.  She  swung  past  bug- 
gies and  wagons  without  a  pause.  The  people  wondered 


The  Danger  of  Playing  with  Fire        167 

why  the  Preacher  was  in  such  a  hurry.  Over  long  sand 
stretches  of  heavy  road  the  mare  flew  in  a  cloud  of  dust. 
The  Preacher's  lips  were  firmly  set,  and  a  scowl  on  his 
brow.  They  had  made  five  miles  without  slackening  up. 

The  mare  was  now  a  mass  of  white  foam,  her  big- 
veined  nostrils  wide  open  and  quivering,  and  her  eyes 
flashing  with  the  fire  of  proud  ancestry.  The  slackened 
lines  on  her  back  seemed  to  her  an  insufferable  insult ! 

"  Doctor,  you'll  kill  Nancy !  "  pleaded  Charlie. 

"  Can't  help  it,  son,  there's  a  lot  of  drunken  devils, 
masquerading  as  Ku  Klux,  going  to  kill  a  man  to-night. 
If  we  can't  reach  Major  Dameron's  in  time  for  him  to 
get  a  lot  of  men  and  stop  them  there'll  be  a  terrible 
tragedy." 

On  the  mare  flew  lifting  her  proud  sensitive  head 
higher  and  higher,  while  her  heart  beat  her  foaming 
flanks  like  a  trip  hammer.  She  never  slackened  her  speed 
for  the  ten  miles,"  but  dashed  up  to  Major  Dameron's 
gate  at  sundown,  just  forty-nine  minutes  from  the  time 
she  started.  The  Preacher  patted  her  dripping  neck. 

"  Good,  Nancy !  good !  I  believe  you've  got  a  soul !  " 

She  stood  with  her  head  still  high,  pawing  the 
ground. 

"  Major  Dameron,  I've  driven  my  mare  here  at  a  kill- 
ing speed  to  tell  you  that  young  McLeod  and  Hose  Nor- 
man have  a  crowd  of  desperadoes  organised  to  kill 
old  Rufus  Lattimore  to-night.  You  must  get  enough 
men  together,  and  get  there  in  time  to  stop  them.  Sam 
Worth  overheard  their  plot,  knows  every  one  of  them, 
and  there  will  be  a  battle  if  they  attempt  it." 

"  My  God !  "  exclaimed  the  Major. 

"  You  haven't  a  minute  to  spare.  They  are  already 
loading  up  on  moonshine  whiskey." 

"  Doctor  Durham,  this  is  the  end  of  the  Ku  Klux  Klan 
in  this  county.  I'll  break  up  every  lodge  in  thr  next 


1 68  The  Leopard's  Spots 

forty-eight  hours.  It's  too  easy  for  vicious  men  to  abuse 
it.  Its  power  is  too  great.  Besides  its  work  is  done." 

"  I  was  just  going  to  ask  you  to  take  that  step,  Major. 
And  now  for  God's  srl^e  get  there  in  time  to-night.  I'd 
go  with  you  but  try  mr<*e  can't  stand  it." 

"  I'll  be  there  on  time.  Never  fear,"  replied  the  Major, 
springing  on  his  horse  already  saddled  at  the  door. 

The  Preacher  drove  slowly  to  his  home,  the  mare  pull- 
ing steadily  on  her  lines.  She  walked  proudly  into  her 
stable  lot,  her  head  high  and  fine  eyes  flashing,  reeled 
and  fell  dead  in  the  shafts !  The  Preacher  couldn't  keep 
back  the  tears.  He  called  Dick  and  left  him  and  Charlie 
the  sorrowful  task  of  taking  r  3  her  harness.  He  hurried 
irito  the  house  and  shi  t  himself  up  in  his  study. 

That  night  when  the  crowd  of  young  toughs  assembled 
at  their  rendezvous  it  was  barely  ten  o'clock. 

Suddenly  a  pistol  shot  rang  from  behind  the  school- 
house,  and  before  McLeod  and  his  crowd  knew  what  had 
happened  fifty  white  horsemen  wheeled  into  a  circle  about 
them.  They  were  completely  surprised  and  cowed. 

Major  Dameron  rode  up  to  McLeod. 

"  Young  man,  you  are  the  prisoner  of  the  Chief  of  the 
Ku  Klux  Klan  of  Campbell  county.  Lift  your  hand  now 
and  I'll  hang  you  in  five  minutes.  You  have  forfeited 
your  life  by  disobedienca  to  my  orders.  You  go  back  to 
Hambright  with  me  under  guard.  Whether  I  execute 
you  depends  on  the  outcome  of  the  next  two  days'  con- 
ferences with  the  chiefs  of  the  township  lodges." 

The  Major  wheeled  his  horse  and  rode  home.  The 
next  day  he  ordered  every  one  of  the  eleven  township 
chiefs  to  report  in  person  to  him,  at  different  hours  the 
same  day.  To  each  one  his  message  was  the  same.  He 
dissolved  the  order  and  issued  a  perpetual  injunction 
against  any  division  of  the  Klan  ever  going  on  another 
raid. 


The  Danger  of  Playing  with  Fire        169 

There  were  only  a  few  who  could  see  the  wisdom  of 
such  hasty  action.  The  success  had  been  so  marvellous, 
their  power  so  absolute,  it  seemed  a  pity  to  throw  it  all 
away.  Young  Kline  especially  begged  the  Major  to  post- 
pone his  action.  %  ; 

"  It's  impossible  Kline.  The  Klan  has  done  its  work. 
The  carpet-baggers  have  fled.  The  state  is  redeemed 
from  the  infamies  of  a  negro  government,  and  we  have 
a  clean  economical  administration,  and  we  can  keep  it 
so  as  long  as  the  white  people  are  a  unit  without  any 
secret  societies." 

"  But,  Major,  we  may  be  needed  again." 

"  I  can't  assume  the  responsibility  any  longer.  The 
thing  is  getting  beyond  my  control.  The  order  is  full  of 
wild  youngsters  and  revengeful  men.  They  try  to  bring 
their  grudges  against  neighbours  into  the  order,  and  when 
I  refuse  to  authorise  a  raid,  they  take  their  disguises  and 
go  without  authority.  An  archangel  couldn't  command 
such  a  force." 

Within  two  weeks  from  the  dissolution  of  the  Klan  by 
its  Chief,  every  lodge  had  been  reorganised.  Some  of 
the  older  men  had  dropped  out,  but  more  young  men 
were  initiated  to  take  their  places.  Allan  McLeod  led 
in  this  work  of  prompt  reorganisation,  and  was  elected 
Chief  of  the  county  by  the  younger  element  which  now 
had  a  large  majority.  %  ;' 

He  at  once  served  notice  on  Major  Dameron,  the 
former  Chief,  that  if  he  dared  to  interfere  with  his  work 
even  by  opening  his  mouth  in  criticism,  he  would  order 
a  raid,  and  thrash  him. 

When  the  Major  found  this  note  under  his  door  one 
morning,  he  read  and  re-read  it  with  increasing  wrath. 
Springing  on  his  horse  he  went  in  search  of  McLeod. 
He  saw  him  leisurely  crossing  the  street  going  from  the 
hotel  to  the  court  house. 


170  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Throwing  his  horse's  rein  to  a  passing  boy,  he  walked 
rapidly  to  him  and,  without  a  word,  boxed  his  ears  as  a 
father  would  an  impudent  child.  McLeod  was  so  as- 
tonished, he  hesitated  for  a  moment  whether  to  strike  or 
to  run.  He  did  neither,  but  blushed  red  and  stam- 
mered, 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"  Read  that  letter,  you  young  whelp ! "  The  Major 
thrust  the  letter  into  his  hand. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  this." 

"  You're  a  liar.  You  are  its  author.  No  other  fool 
in  this  county  would  have  conceived  it.  Now,  let  me  give 
you  a  little  notice.  I  am  prepared  for  you  and  your 
crowd.  Call  any  time.  I  can  whip  a  hundred  puppies  of 
your  breed  any  time  by  myself  with  one  hand  tied  be- 
hind me,  and  never  get  a  scratch.  Dare  to  lift  your 
finger  against  me,  or  any  of  the  men  who  refused  to  go 
with  your  new  fool's  movement,  and  I'll  shoot  you  on 
sight  as  I  would  a  mad  dog."  Before  McLeod  could 
reply,  the  Major  turned  on  his  heels  and  left  him. 

McLeod  made  no  further  attempt  to  molest  the  Major, 
nor  did  he  allow  any  raids  bent  on  murder.  The  sud- 
den authority  placed  in  his  hands  in  a  measure  sobered 
him.  He  inaugurated  a  series  of  petty  deviltries,  whipping 
negroes  and  poor  white  men  against  whom  some  of  his 
crowd  had  a  grudge,  and  annoying  the  school  teachers 
of  negro  schools. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
THE  BIRTH  OF  A  SCALAWAG 

THE  overwhelming  defeat  of  their  pets  in  the 
South,  and  the  toppling  of  their  houses  of 
paper  built  on  Negro  supremacy,  brought  to 
Congress  a  sense  of  guilt  and  shame,  that  required  action. 
Their  own  agents  in  the  South  were  now  in  the  peni- 
tentiary or  in  exile  for  well  established  felonies,  and  the 
future  looked  dark. 

They  found  the  scapegoat  in  these  fool  later  day  Ku 
Klux  marauders.  Once  more  the  public  square  at  Ham- 
bright  saw  the  bivouac  of  the  regular  troops  of  the 
United  States  Army.  The  Preacher  saw  the  glint  of 
their  bayonets  with  a  sense  of  relief. 

With  this  army  came  a  corps  of  skilled  detectives,  who 
set  to  work.  All  that  was  necessary,  was  to  arrest  and 
threaten  with  summary  death  a  coward,  and  they  got  all 
the  information  he  could  give.  The  jail  was  choked  with 
prisoners  and  every  day  saw  a  squad  depart  for  the 
stockade  at  Independence.  Sam  Worth  gave  informa- 
tion that  led  to  the  immediate  arrest  of  Allan  McLeod. 
He  was  the  first  man  led  into  the  jail. 

The  officers  had  a  long  conference  with  him  that  lasted 
four  hours. 

And  then  the  bottom  fell  out.  A  wild  stampede 
of  young  men  for  the  West!  Somebody  who  held 
the  names  of  every  man  in  the  order  had  proved  a 
traitor. 


172  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Every  night  from  hundreds  of  humble  homes  might 
be  heard  the  choking  sobs  of  a  mother  saying  good-bye  in 
the  darkness  to  the  last  boy  the  war  had  left  her  old  age. 
When  the  good-bye  was  said,  and  the  father,  waiting  in 
the  buggy  at  the  gate,  had  called  for  haste,  and  the  boy 
was  hurrying  out  with  his  grip-sack,  there  was  a  moan,  the 
soft  rush  of  a  coarse  homespun  dress  toward  the  gate 
and  her  arms  were  around  his  neck  again. 

"  I  can't  let  you  go,  child !  Lord  have  mercy !  He's 
the  last !  "  And  the  low  pitiful  sobs ! 

"  Come,  come,  now  Ma,  we  must  get  away  from  here 
before  the  officers  are  after  him ! " 

"  Just  a  minute !  " 

A  kiss,  and  then  another  long  and  lingering.  A  sigh, 
and  then  a  smothered  choking  cry  from  a  mother's  broken 
heart  and  he  was  gone. 

Thus  Texas  grew  into  the  Imperial  Commonwealth  of 
the  South. 


To  save  appearance  McLeod  was  removed  to  Independ- 
ence with  the  other  prisoners,  and  in  a  short  time  re- 
leased, with  a  number  of  others  against  whom  insignifi- 
cant charges  were  lodged. 

When  he  returned  to  Hambright  the  people  looked  at 
him  with  suspicion. 

"  How  is  it,  young  man,"  asked  the  Preacher,  "  that 
you  are  at  home  so  soon,  while  brave  boys  are  serving 
terms  in  Northern  prisons  ?  " 

"  Had  nothing  against  me,"  he  replied. 

"  That's  strange,  when  Sam  Worth  swore  that  you  or- 
ganised the  raid  to  kill  Rufe  Lattimore." 

"  They  didn't  believe  him." 

"  Well,  I've  an  idea  that  you  saved  your  hide  by  puking. 
I'm  not  sure  yet,  but  information  was  given  that  only 


The  Birth  of  a  Scalawag  173 

the  man  in  command  of  the  whole  county  could  have 
possessed." 

"  There  were  a  half-dozen  men  who  knew  as  much  as 
I  did.  You  mustn't  think  me  capable  of  such  a  thing, 
Dr.  Durham !  "  protested  McLeod  with  heightened  colour. 

"  It's  a  nasty  suspicion.  I'd  rather  see  a  child  of  mine 
transformed  into  a  cur  dog,  and  killed  for  stealing  sheep, 
than  fall  to  the  level  of  such  a  man.  But  only  time  will 
prove  the  issue." 

"  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf,"  said 
McLeod.  "  I'm  sick  of  rowdyism.  I'm  going  to  be  a  law- 
abiding,  loyal  citizen." 

"That's  just  what  I'm  afraid  of!"  exclaimed  the 
Preacher  with  a  sneer  as  he  turned  and  left  him. 

And  his  fears  were  soon  confirmed.  Within  a  month 
the  Independence  Observer  contained  a  dispatch  from 
Washington  announcing  the  appointment  of  Allan  Mc- 
Leod a  Deputy  United  States  Marshal  for  the  District  of 
Western  North  Carolina,  together  with  the  information 
that  he  had  renounced  his  allegiance  to  his  old  disloyal 
associates,  and  had  become  an  enthusiastic  Republican; 
and  that  henceforth  he  would  labour  with  might  and  main 
to  establish  peace  and  further  the  industrial  progress  of 
the  South. 

"  I  knew  it.  The  dirty  whelp !  "  cried  the  Preacher, 
as  he  showed  the  paper  to  his  wife. 

"  Now  don't  be  too  hard  on  the  boy,  Doctor  Durham," 
urged  his  wife.  "  He  may  be  sincere  in  his  change  of 
politics.  You  never  did  like  him." 

"  Sincere !  yes,  as  the  devil  is  always  sincere.  He's 
dead  in  earnest  now.  He's  found  his  level,  and  his  suc- 
cess is  sure.  Mark  my  words  the  boy's  a  villain  from 
the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  feet.  He  has 
bartered  his  soul  to  save  his  skin,  and  the  skin  is  all 
that's  left," 


174  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I'm  sorry  to  think  it.    I  couldn't  help  liking  him." 
"  And  that's  the  funniest  freak  I  ever  knew  your  fancy 
to  take,  my  dear, — I  never  could  understand  it." 

When  McLeod  had  established  his  office  in  Hambright, 
he  made  special  efforts  to  allay  the  suspicions  against 
his  name.  His  indignant  denials  of  the  report  of  his 
treachery  convinced  many  that  he  had  been  wronged. 
Two  men  alone,  maintained  toward  him  an  attitude  of 
contempt,  Major  Dameron  and  the  Preacher. 

He  called  on  Mrs.  Durham,  and  with  his  smooth  tongue 
convinced  her  that  he  had  been  foully  slandered.  She 
urged  him  to  win  the  Doctor.  Accordingly  he  called  to 
talk  the  question  over  with  the  Preacher  and  ask  him 
for  a  fair  chance  to  build  his  character  untarnished  in  the 
community. 

The  Preacher  heard  him  through  patiently,  but  in 
silence.  Allan  was  perspiring  before  he  reached  the  end 
of  his  plausible  explanation.  It  was  a  tougher  task  than 
he  thought,  this  deliberate  lying,  under  the  gaze  of  those 
glowing  black  eyes  that  looked  out  from  their  shaggy 
brows  and  pierced  through  his  inmost  soul. 

"  You've  got  an  oily  tongue.  It  will  carry  you  a  long 
way  in  this  world.  I  can't  help  admiring  the  skill  with 
which  you  are  fast  learning  to  use  it.  You've  fooled 
Mrs.  Durham  with  it,  but  you  can't  fool  me,"  said  the 
Preacher. 

"  Doctor,  I  solemnly  swear  to  you  I  am  not  guilty." 
"  It's  no  use  to  add  perjury  to  plain  lying.     I  know 
you  did  it.    I  know  it  as  well  as  if  I  were  present  in  that 
jail  and  heard  you  basely  betray  the  men,  name  by  name, 
whom  you  had  lured  to  their  ruin." 
"  Doctor,  I  swear  you  are  mistaken !  " 
"  Bah !    Don't  talk  about  it.    You  nauseate  me !  " 
The  Preacher  sprang  to  his  feet,  paced  across  the  floor, 
sat  down  on  the  edge  of  his  table  and  glared  at  McLeod 


The  Birth  of  a  Scalawag  175 

for  a  moment.  And  then  with  his  voice  low  and  quiver- 
ing with  a  storm  of  emotion  he  said, 

"  The  curse  of  God  upon  you — the  God  of  your  fath- 
ers !  Your  fathers  in  far-off  Scotland's  hills,  who  would 
have  suffered  their  tongues  torn  from  their  heads  and 
their  skin  stripped  inch  by  inch  from  their  flesh  sooner 
than  betray  one  of  their  clan  in  distress.  You  have  be- 
trayed a  thousand  of  your  own  men,  and  you,  their  sworn 
chieftain !  Hell  was  made  to  consume  such  leper  trash !  " 

McLeod  was  dazed  at  first  by  this  outburst.  At  length 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  livid  with  rage. 

"  I'll  not  forget  this,  sir!  "  he  hissed. 

"  Don't  forget  it ! "  cried  the  Preacher  trembling  with 
passion  as  he  opened  the  door.  "  Go  on  and  live  your 
lie.  " 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
A  MODERN  MIRACLE 

U  Tt  IJf  RS.  DURHAM,  the  Doctor  wants  you,"  said 
\\\  Charlie  when  McLeod's  footfall  had  died 
-*--•-  away. 

"  Charlie,  dear,  why  don't  you  call  me  '  Mama ' — 
surely  you  love  me  a  little  wee  bit,  don't  you  ?  "  she  asked, 
taking  the  boy's  hand  tenderly  in  hers. 

"  Yes'm,"  he  replied  hanging  his  head. 

"  Then  do  say  Mama.  You  don't  know  how  good  it 
would  be  in  my  ears." 

"  I  try  to  but  it  chokes  me,"  he  half  whispered,  glanc- 
ing timidly  up  at  her.  "  Let  me  call  you  Aunt  Margaret, 
I  always  wanted  an  aunt  and  I  think  your  name  Mar- 
garet's so  sweet,"  he  shyly  added. 

She  kissed  him  and  said,  "  All  right,  if  that's  all  you 
will  give  me."  She  passed  on  into  the  library  where  the 
Preacher  waited  her. 

a  My  dear,  I've  just  given  young  McLeod  a  piece  of 
my  mind.  I  wanted  to  say  to  you  that  you  are  entirely 
mistaken  in  his  character.  He's  a  bad  egg.  I  know  all 
the  facts  about  his  treachery.  He's  as  smooth  a  liar  as 
I've  met  in  years." 

"  With  all  his  brute  nature,  there's  some  good  in  him," 
she  persisted. 

"  Well,  it  will  stay  in  him.  He  will  never  let  it  get 
out." 

"  All  right,  have  your  way  about  it  for  the  time.   We'll 


A  Modern  Miracle  177 

see  who  is  right  in  the  long  run.  Now  I've  a  more  press- 
ing and  tougher  problem  for  your  solution." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Dick." 

"What's  he  done  this  time?" 

"  He  steals  everything  he  can  get  his  hands  on." 

"  He  is  a  puzzle." 

"  He's  the  greatest  liar  I  ever  saw,"  she  continued. 
"  He  simply  will  not  tell  the  truth  if  he  can  think  up 
a  lie  in  time.  I'd  say  run  him  off  the  place,  but  for 
Charlie.  He  seems  to  love  the  little  scoundrel.  I'm 
afraid  his  influence  over  Charlie  will  be  vicious,  but  it 
would  break  the  child's  heart  to  drive  Him  away.  What 
shall  we  do  with  him  ?  " 

The  Preacher  laughed.  "  I  give  it  up,  my  dear,  you've 
got  beyond  my  depth  now.  I  don't  know  whether  he's 
got  a  soul.  Certainly  the  very  rudimentary  foundations 
of  morals  seem  lacking.  I  believe  you  could  take  a  young 
ape  and  teach  him  quicker.  I  leave  him  with  you.  At 
present  it's  a  domestic  problem." 

"  Thanks,  that's  so  encouraging." 

Dick  was  a  puzzle  and  no  mistake  about  it.  But  to 
Charlie  his  rolling  mischievous  eyes,  his  cunning  fingers 
and  his  wayward  imagination  were  unfailing  fountains 
of  life.  He  found  every  bird's  nest  within  two  miles  of 
town.  He  could  track  a  rabbit  almost  as  swiftly  and 
surely  as  a  hound.  He  could  work  like  fury  when  he  had 
a  mind  to,  and  loaf  a  half  day  over  one  row  of  the  garden 
when  he,  didn't  want  to  work,  which  was  his  chronic 
condition. 

When  the  revival  season  set  in  for  the  negroes  in  the 
summer,  the  days  of  sorrow  began  for  householders. 
Every  negro  in  the  community  became  absolutely  worth- 
less and  remained  so  until  the  emotional  insanity  attend- 
ing their  meetings  wore  off. 


178  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Aunt  Mary,  Mrs.  Durham's  cook,  got  salvation  over 
again  every  summer  with  increasing  power  and  increas- 
ing degeneration  in  her  work.  Some  nights  she  got  home 
at  two  o'clock  and  breakfast  was  not  ready  until  nine. 
Some  nights  she  didn't  get  home  at  all,  and  Mrs.  Dur- 
ham had  to  get  breakfast  herself. 

It  was  a  hard  time  for  Dick  who  had  not  yet  experi- 
enced religion,  and  on  whom  fell  the  brunt  of  the  extra 
work  and  Mrs.  Durham's  fretfulness  besides. 

"  I  tell  you  what  less  do,  Charlie ! "  he  cried  one  day. 
"  Less  go  down  ter  dat  nigger  chu'ch,  en  bus'  up  de 
meetin' !  I'se  gettin'  tired  er  dis." 

"How'llyou  doit?" 

"  I  show  you  somefin'  ?  "  He  reached  under  his  shirt 
next  to  his  skin,  and  pulled  out  Dr.  Graham's  sun 
glass. 

"Where'd  you  get  that,  Dick?" 

"  Foun'  it  whar  er  man  lef  it."  He  walled  his  eyes 
solemnly. 

"  Des  watch  here  when  I  turns  'im  in  de  sun.  I  kin 
set  dat  pile  er  straw  er  fire  wid  it ! " 

"  You  mustn't  set  the  church  afire ! "  warned  Charlie. 

"  Naw,  chile,  but  I  git  up  in  de  gallery,  en  when  ole 
Uncle  Josh  gins  ter  holler  en  bawl  en  r'ar  en  charge,  I 
fling  dat  blaze  er  light  right  on  his  bar  haid,  en  I  set  him 
afire  sho's  you  bawn !  " 

"  Dick,  I  wouldn't  do  it,"  said  Charlie,  laughing  in  spite 
of  himself. 

Charlie  refused  to  accompany  him.  But  Dick's  mind 
was  set  on  the  necessity  of  this  work  of  reform.  So  in  the 
afternoon  he  slipped  off  without  leave  and  quietly  made 
his  way  into  the  gallery  of  the  Negro  Baptist  church. 

The  excitement  was  running  high.  Uncle  Josh  had 
preached  one  sermon  an  hour  in  length,  and  had  called 
up  the  mourners.  At  least  fifty  had  come  forward.  The 


A  Modern  Miracle  179 

benches  had  been  cleared  for  five  rows  back  from  the 
pulpit  to  give  plenty  of  room  for  the  mourners  to  crawl 
over  the  floor,  walk  back  and  forth  and  shout  when  they 
"  came  through,"  and  for  their  friends  to  fan  them. 

This  open  place  was  covered  with  wheat  straw  to  keep 
the  mourners  off  the  bare  floor,  and  afford  some  sort  of 
comfort  for  those  far  advanced  in  mourning,  who  went 
into  trances  and  sometimes  lay  motionless  for  hours  on 
their  backs  or  flat  on  their  faces. 

The  mourners  had  kicked  and  shuffled  this  straw  out  to 
the  edges  and  the  floor  was  bare.  Uncle  Josh  had  sent 
two  deacons  out  for  more  straw. 

'In  the  meantime  he  was  working  himself  up  to  an- 
other mighty  climax  of  exhortation  to  move  sinners  to 
come  forward. 

"  Come  on  ter  glory  you  po,  po  sinners,  en  flee  ter  de 
Lamb  er  God  befo  de  flames  er  hell  swaller  you  whole! 
At  de  last  great  day  de  Sperit  11  flash  de  light  er  his 
shinin'  face  on  dis  ole  parch  up  sinful  worl',  en  hit  '11 
ketch  er  fire  in  er  minute,  an  de  yearth  '11  melt  wid  fur- 
vient  heat!  Whar  '11  you  be  den  po  tremblin'  sinner? 
Whar  '11  you  be  when  de  flame  er  de  Sperit  smites  de 
moon  and  de  stars  wid  fire,  en  dey  gin  ter  drap  outen 
de  sky  en  knock  big  holes  in  de  burnin'  yearth?  Whar 
'11  you  be  when  de  rocks  melt  wid  dat  heat,  en  de  sun 
hide  his  face  in  de  black  smoke  dat  rise  fum  de  pit?  " 

Moans  and  groans  and  shrieks,  louder  and  louder  filled 
the  air.  Uncle  Josh  paused  a  moment  and  looked  for  his 
deacons  with  the  straw.  They  were  just  coming  up  the 
steps  with  a  great  armful  over  their  heads. 

"  What's  de  matter  wid  you  breddern !  Fetch  on  dat 
wheat  straw!  Here's  dese  tremblin'  souls  gwine  down 
inter  de  flames  er  hell  des  fur  de  lak  er  wheat  straw ! " 

The  brethren  hurried  forward  with  the  wheat  straw, 
and  just  as  they  reached  Uncle  Josh  standing  perspiring 


i8o  The  Leopard's  spots 

in  the  midst  of  his  groaning  mourners,  Dick  flashed  from 
the  gallery  a  stream  of  dazzling  light  on  the  old  man's 
face  and  held  it  steadily  on  his  bald  head.  Josh  was  too 
astonished  to  move  at  first.  He  was  simply  paralysed 
with  fear.  It  was  all  right  to  talk  about  the  flame  of  the 
Spirit,  but  he  wasn't  exactly  ready  to  run  into  it.  Sud- 
denly he  clapped  his  hands  on  the  top  of  his  head  and 
sprang  straight  up  in  the  air  yelling  in  a  plain  everyday 
profane  voice, 

"  God-der-mighty !    What's  dat  ?  " 

The  brethren  holding  the  straw  saw  it  and  stood  dumb 
with  terror.  The  light  disappeared  from  Uncle  Josh's 
head  and  lit  the  straw  in  splendour  on  one  of  the  deacon's 
shoulders.  Aunt  Mary's  voice  was  heard  above  the 
mourners'  din,  clear,  shrill  and  soul  piercing. 

"  G-1-o-r-y !  G-1-o-r-y  ter  God !  De  flame  er  de 
Sperit!  De  judgment  day!  Yas  Lawd,  I'se  here!  Glory! 
Halleluyah!" 

Suddenly  the  straw  on  the  deacon's  back  burst  into 
flames!  And  pandemonium  broke  loose.  A  weak- 
minded  sinner  screamed, 

"De  flames  er  Hell!" 

The  mourners  smelled  the  smoke  and  sprang  from  the 
floor  with  white  staring  eyes.  When  they  saw  the  fire 
and  got  their  bearings  they  made  for  the  open, — they 
jumped  on  each  others'  back  and  made  for  the  door  like 
madmen.  Those  nearest  the  windows  sprang  through, 
and  when  the  lower  part  of  the  window  was  jammed,  big 
buck  negroes  jumped  on  the  backs  of  the  lower  crowd 
and  plunged  through  the  two  upper  sashes  with  a  crash 
that  added  new  terror  to  the  panic. 

In  two  minutes  the  church  was  empty,  and  the  yard 
Ml  of  crazy,  shouting  negroes. 

Dick  stepped  from  the  gallery  into  the  crowd 
as  the  last  ones  emerged,  ran  up  to  the  pulpit  and 


A  Modern  Miracle  18* 

stamped  out  the  fire  in  the  straw  with  his  bare  feet.  He 
looked  around  to  see  if  they  had  left  anything  valuable 
behind  in  the  stampede,  and  sauntered  leisurely  out  of 
the  church. 

"  Now  dog-gone  'em  let  'em  yell !  "  he  muttered  to 
himself. 

When  Uncle  Josh  sufficiently  recovered  his  senses  to 
think,  and  saw  the  church  still  standing,  with  not  even 
a  whiff  of  smoke  to  be  seen,  instead  of  the  roaring  fur- 
nace he  had  expected,  he  was  amazed.  He  called  his 
scattered  deacons  together  and  they  went  cautiously  back 
to  investigate. 

"  Hit's  no  use  in  talkin'  Bre'r  Josh,  dey  sho  wuz  er 
fire ! "  cried  one  of  the  deacons. 

"  Sho's  de  Lawd's  in  heaben.  I  feel  it  gittin'  on  my 
fingers  fo  I  drap  dat  straw !  "  said  another. 

"  Hit  smite  me  fust  right  on  top  er  my  haid ! " 
whispered  Uncle  Josh  in  awe. 

They  cautiously  approached  the  pulpit  and  there  in 
front  of  it  lay  the  charred  fragments  of  the  burned  straw 
pile. 

They  gathered  around  it  in  awe-struck  wonder.  One 
of  them  touched  it  with  his  foot. 

"  Doan  do  dat ! "  cried  Uncle  Josh,  lifting  his  hand 
with  authority. 

They  drew  back,  Uncle  Josh  saw  the  immense  power 
in  that  heap  of  charred  straw.  Some  of  it  was  a  little 
damp  and  it  had  been  only  partly  burned. 

"  Dar's  de  mericle  er  de  Sperit ! "  he  solemnly  de- 
clared. 

"  Yas  Lawd !  "  echoed  a  deacon. 

"  Fetch  de  hammer,  en  de  saw,  en  de  nails,  en  de 
boards  en  build  right  dar  en  altar  ter  de  Sperit ! "  were 
his  prophetic  commands. 

And  they  did.     They  got  an  old  show  case  of  glass, 


182  The  Leopard's  Spots 

but  the  charred  straw  in  it,  and  built  an  open  box  work 
around  it  just  where  it  fell  in  front  of  the  pulpit. 

Then  a  revival  broke  out  that  completely  paralysed  the 
industries  of  Campbell  county.  Every  negro  stopped 
work  and  went  to  that  church.  Uncle  Josh  didn't  have 
to  preach  or  to  plead.  They  came  in  troops  towards  the 
magic  altar,  whose  fame  and  mystery  had  thrilled  every 
superstitious  soul  with  its  power.  The  benches  were  all 
moved  out  and  the  whole  church  floor  given  up  to  mourn- 
ers. Uncle  Josh  had  an  easy  time  walking  around  just 
adding  a  few  terrifying  hints  to  trembling  sinners,  or 
helping  to  hold  some  strong  sister  when  she  had  "  come 
through,"  with  so  much  glory  in  her  bones  that  there 
was  danger  she  would  hurt  somebody. 

After  a  week  the  matter  became  so  serious  that  the 
white  people  set  in  motion  an  investigation  of  the  affair. 
Dick  had  thrown  out  a  mysterious  hint  that  he  knew 
some  things  that  were  very  funny. 

"  Doan  you  tell  nobody !  "  he  would  solemnly  say  to 
Charlie. 

And  then  he  would  lie  down  on  the  grass  and  roll  and 
laugh.  At  length  by  dint  of  perseverance,  and  a  bribe 
of  a  quarter,  the  Preacher  induced  Dick  to  explain  the 
mystery.  He  did,  and  it  broke  up  the  meeting. 

Uncle  Josh's  fury  knew  no  bounds.  He  was  heart- 
broken at  the  sudden  collapse  of  his  revival,  chagrined  at 
the  recollection  of  his  own  terror  at  the  fire,  and  fearful 
of  an  avalanche  of  backsliders  from  the  meeting  among 
those  who  had  professed  even  with  the  greatest  glory. 

He  demanded  that  the  Preacher  should  turn  Dick  over 
to  him  for  correction.  The  Preacher  took  a  few  hours  to 
consider  whether  he  should  whip  him  himself  or  turn 
him  over  to  Uncle  Josh.  Dick  heard  Uncle  Josh's  de- 
mand. Out  behind  the  stable  he  and  Charlie  held  a 
council  of  war. 


A  Modern  Miracle  183 

"  You  go  see  Miss  Mar 'get  fur  me,  en  git  up  close  to 
her,  en  tell  her  taint  right  ter  'low  no  low  down  black 
nigger  ter  whip  me !  " 

"  All  right  Dick,  I  will,"  agreed  Charlie. 

"  Case  ef  ole  Josh  beats  me  I  gwine  ter  run  away.  I 
nebber  git  ober  dat.  " 

Dick  had  threatened  to  run  away  often  before  when 
he  wanted  to  force  Charlie  to  do  something  for  him. 
Once  he  had  gone  a  mile  out  of  town  with  his  clothes 
tied  in  a  bundle,  and  Charlie  trudging  after  him  begging 
him  not  to  leave.  • 

The  boy  did  his  best  to  save  Dick  the  humiliation  of  a 
whipping  at  the  hands  of  Uncle  Josh,  but  in  vain. 

When  Uncle  Josh  led  him  out  to  the  stable  lot,  his 
face  was  not  pleasant  to  look  upon.  There  was  a  dan- 
gerous gleam  in  Dick's  eye  that  boded  no  good  to  his 
enemy. 

"  You  imp  er  de  debbil !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Josh  shak- 
ing his  switch  with  unction.  * 

"  I  fool  you  good  enough,  you  ole  bal'  headed  ape ! " 
answered  Dick  gritting  his  teeth  defiantly. 

"  I  make  you  sing  enudder  chune  fo  I'se  done  wid 
you  " 

"  En  if  you  does,  nigger,  you  know  what  I  gwine  do 
fur  you  ?  "  cried  Dick  rolling  his  eyes  up  at  his  enemy. 

"  What  kin  you  do,  honey  ?  asked  Uncle  Josh,  humour- 
ing his  victim  now  with  the  evident  relish  of  a  cat  before 
his  meal  on  a  mouse. 

"  Ef  you  hits  me  hard,  I  gwine  ter  burn  you  house 
down  on  you  haid  some  night,  en  run  erway  des  es  sho 
es  I  kin  stick  er  match  to  it,"  said  Dick. 

"  You  is,  is  you  ?  "  thundered  Josh  with  wrath. 

"  Dat  I  is.    En  I  burn  yo  ole  chu'ch  de  same  night." 

Uncle  Josh  was  silent  a  moment.  Dick's  words 
had  chilled  his  heart.  He  was  afraid  of  him,  but  he  was 


184  The  Leopard's  Spots 

afraid  to  back  down  from  what  was  now  evidently  his 
duty.  So  without  further  words  he  whipped  him.  Yet 
to  save  his  life  he  could  not  hit  him  as  hard  as  he  thought 
he  deserved. 

That  night  Dick  disappeared  from  Hambright,  and 
for  weeks  every  evening  at  dusk  the  wistful  face  of 
Charlie  Gaston  could  be  seen  on  the  big  hill  to  the  south 
of  town  vainly  watching  for  somebody.  He  would 
always  take  something  to  eat  in  his  pockets,  and  when 
he  gave  up  his  vigil  he  would  place  the  food  under  a 
big  shelving  rock  where  they  had  often  played  together. 
But  the  birds  and  ground  squirrels  ate  it.  He  would 
slip  back  the  next  day  hoping  to  see  Dick  jump  out  of 
the  cave  and  surprise  him. 

And  then  at  last  he  gave  it  up,  sat  down  under  the 
rock  and  cried.  He  knew  Dick  would  grow  to  be  a  man 
somewhere  out  in  the  big  world  and  never  come  back. 


LOVE'S   DREAM 


ffioofc  Uwo— Xcwe's  Bream 

CHAPTER    I 
BLUE  EYES  AND  BLACK  HAIR 

k £      >|  HE'S  coming  next  month,  Charlie,"  said  Mrs. 
Durham,  looking  up  from  a  letter. 

"  Who  is  it  now,  Auntie,  another  divinity 
with  which  you  are  going  to  overwhelm  me  ?  "  asked 
Gaston  smiling  as  he  laid  his  book  down  and  leaned  back 
in  his  chair. 

"  Some  one  I've  been  telling  you  about  for  the  last 
month." 

"Which  one?" 

"  Oh,  you  wretch !  You  don't  think  about  anything 
except  your  books.  I've  been  dinning  that  girl's  praises 
into  your  ears  for  fully  five  weeks,  and  you  look  at  me  in 
that  innocent  way  and  ask  which  one  ?  " 

"  Honestly,  Aunt  Margaret,  you're  always  telling  me 
about  some  beautiful  girl,  I  get  them  mixed.  And  then 
when  I  see  them,  they  don't  come  up  to  the  advance  no- 
tices you've  sent  out.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  you  are 
such  a  beautiful  woman,  and  I've  got  so  used  to  your 
standard,  the  girls  can't  measure  up  to  it." 

"  You  flatterer.  A  woman  of  forty-two  a  standard  of 
beauty!  Well,  it's  sweet  to  hear  you  say  it,  you  hand- 
some young  rascal." 

"  It's  the  honest  truth.  You  are  one  of  the  women 
who  never  show  the  addition  of  a  year.  You  have 
spoiled  my  eyesight  for  ordinary  girls." 


1 88  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Hush,  sir,  you  don't  dare  to  talk  to  any  girl  like  you 
talk  to  me.  They  all  say  you're  afraid  of  them." 

"  Well,  I  am,  in  a  sense.  I've  been  disappointed  so 
many  times." 

"  Oh !  you'll  find  her  yet  and  when  you  do !  " — 

"  What  do  you  think  will  happen  ?  " 

"  I'm  certain  you  will  be  the  biggest  fool  in  the  state." 

"That  will  make  it  nice  for  the  girl,  won't  it?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  shall  enjoy  your  antics.  You  who  have 
dissected  love  with  your  brutal  German  philosophy,  and 
found  every  girl's  faults  with  such  ease, — it  will  be  fun 
to  watch  you  flounder  in  the  meshes  at  last.  " 

"  Auntie,  seriously,  it  will  be  the  happiest  day  of  my 
life.  For  four  years  my  dreams  have  been  growing  more 
and  more  impossible.  Who  is  this  one?  " 

"  She  is  the  most  beautiful  girl  I  know,  and  the  bright- 
est and  the  best,  and  if  she  gets  hold  of  you  she  will  clip 
your  wings  and  bring  you  down  to  earth.  I'll  watch  you 
with  interest,"  said  Mrs.  Durham  looking  over  the  letter 
again  and  laughing. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  " 

"  Just  a  little  joke  she  gets  off  in  this  letter." 

"  But  who  is  she  ?    You  haven't  told  me." 

"  I  did  tell  you — she's  General  Worth's  daughter,  Miss 
Sallie.  She  writes  she  is  coming  up  to  spend  a  month 
at  the  Springs,  with  her  friend  Helen  Lowell,  of  Boston, 
and  wants  me  to  corral  all  the  young  men  in  the  com- 
munity and  have  them  fed  and  in  fine  condition  for  work 
when  they  arrive." 

"  She  evidently  intends  to  have  a  good  time." 

"  Yes,  and  she  will." 

"  Fortunately  my  law  practice  is  not  rushing  me  at 
this  season.  My  total  receipts  for  June  last  year  were 
two  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents.  It  will  hardly  go  over 
two-fifty  this  year." 


Blue  Eyes  and  Black  Hair  189 

"  I've  told  her  you're  a  rising  young  lawyer." 

"  I  have  plenty  of  room  to  rise,  Auntie.  If  you  will 
just  keep  on  letting  me  board  with  you,  I  hope  to  work 
my  practice  up  to  ten  dollars  a  month  in  the  course  of 
time." 

"  Don't  you  want  to  hear  something  about  Miss 
Sallie?" 

"  Of  course,  I  was  just  going  to  ask  you  if  she's  as 
homely  as  that  last  one  you  tried  to  get  off  on  me." 

"  I've  told  you  she's  a  beauty.  She  made  a  sensation 
at  her  finishing  school  in  Baltimore.  It's  funny  that  she 
was  there  the  last  year  you  were  at  the  Johns  Hopkins 
University.  She's  the  belle  of  Independence,  rich,  petted, 
and  the  only  child  of  old  General  Worth,  who  thinks  the 
sun  rises  and  sets  in  her  pretty  blue  eyes." 

"So  she  has  blue  eyes?" 

"  Yes,  blue  eyes  and  black  hair." 

"  What  a  funny  combination !  I  never  saw  a  girl  with 
blue  eyes  and  black  hair." 

"  It's  often  seen  in  the  far  South.  I  expect  you  to  be 
drowned  in  those  blue  eyes.  They  are  big,  round  and 
child-like,  and  look  out  of  their  black  lashes  as  though 
surprised  at  their  dark  setting.  This  contrast  accents  their 
dreamy  beauty,  and  her  eyes  seem  to  swim  in  a  dim  blue 
mist  like  the  point  where  the  sea  and  sky  meet  on  the 
horizon  far  out  on  the  ocean.  She  is  bright,  witty,  ro- 
mantic and  full  of  coquetry.  She  is  determined  to  live 
her  girl's  life  to  its  full  limit.  She  is  fond  of  society 
and  dances  divinely." 

"  That's  bad.  I  never  even  cut  the  pigeon's  wing  in 
my  life — and  I'm  too  old  to  learn." 

"  She  has  a  full  queenly  figure,  small  hands  and  feet, 
delicate  wrists,  a  dimple  in  one  cheek  only,  and  a  mass 
of  brown-black  hair  that  curls  when  it's  going  to 
rain." 


190  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  That's  fine,  we  wouldn't  need  a  barometer  on  life's 
voyage,  would  we  ?  " 

"  No,  but  you  will  be  looking  for  a  pilot  and  a  harbour 
before  you've  known  her  a  month.  Her  upper  lip  is  a 
little  fuller  and  projects  slightly  over  the  lower,  and  they 
are  both  beautifully  fluted  and  curved  like  the  petals  of 
a  flower,  which  makes  the  most  tantalising  mouth  a  stand- 
ing challenge  for  a  kiss." 

"  Oh !  Auntie,  you're  joking !  You  never  saw  such 
a  girl.  You're  breaking  into  my  heart,  stealing  glances 
at  my  ideal." 

"  All  right,  sir,  wait  and  see  for  yourself.  She  has 
pretty  shell-like  ears,  her  laughter  is  full,  contagious,  and 
like  music.  She  plays  divinely  on  the  piano,  can't  sing 
a  note,  but  dresses  to  kill.  You  might  as  well  wind  up 
your  affairs,  and  get  ready  for  the  first  serious  work  of 
your  life.  You  will  have  your  hands  full  after  you  see 
her." 

"  But  did  I  understand  you  to  say  she's  rich  ?  " 

"  Yes,  they  say  her  father  is  worth  half  a  million." 

"  Do  you  think  she  could  be  interested  in  the  poor  in 
this  county  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  doesn't  seem  to  know  she's  an  heiress.  Her 
father,  the  General,  is  a  deacon  in  the  Baptist  church  at 
Independence,  and  hates  dudes  and  fops  with  all  his  old- 
fashioned  soul.  His  idea  of  a  man  is  one  of  character, 
and  the  capacity  of  achievement,  not  merely  a  possessor 
of  money.  Still,  I  imagine  he  is  going  to  give  any  man 
trouble  who  tries  to  take  his  daughter  away  from 
him." 

"  I'm  afraid  that  money  lets  me  out  of  the  race." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,  when  you  see  her  you  will  never 
allow  a  little  thing  like  that  to  worry  you." 

"  It's  not  her  dollars  that  will  worry  me.  It's  the  fact 
that  she's  got  them  and  I  haven't.  But,  anyhow,  Auntie, 


Blue  Eyes  and  Black  Hay  191 

from  your  description  you  can  book  me  for  one  night  at 
least." 

"I'm  going  to  book  you  for  her  lackey,  her  slave,  de- 
voted to  her  every  whim  while  she's  here.  One  night — 
the  idea !  " 

u  Auntie,  you're  too  generous  to  others.  I've  no  no- 
tion all  this  rigmarole  about  your  Miss  Sallie  Worth  is 
true.  But  I'll  do  anything  to  please  you." 

"  Very  well,  I'll  see  whom  you  are  trying  to  please 
later." 

"  I  must  go,"  said  Gaston,  hastily  rising.  I  have  an 
engagement  to  discuss  the  coming  political  campaign 
with  the  Hon.  Allan  McLeod,  the  present  Republican 
boss  of  the  state." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  hobnobbed  with  the  enemy." 

"  I  don't.  But  as  far  as  I  can  understand  him,  he  pur- 
poses to  take  me  up  on  an  exceeding  high  mountain  and 
offer  me  the  world  and  the  fulness  thereof.  We  all  like 
to  be  tempted  whether  we  fall  or  not.  The  Doctor  hates 
McLeod.  I  think  he  holds  some  grudge  against  him. 
What  do  you  think  of  him,  Auntie?  He  swears  by  you. 
I  used  to  dislike  him  as  a  boy,  but  he  seems  a  pretty  de- 
cent sort  of  fellow  now,  and  I  can't  help  liking  just  a 
little  anybody  who  loves  you.  I  confess  he  has  a  fascina- 
tion for  me." 

"  Why  do  you  ask  my  opinion  of  him  ?  "  slowly  asked 
Mrs.  Durham. 

"  Because  I'm  not  quite  sure  of  his  honesty.  He  talks 
fairly,  but  there's  something  about  him  that  casts  a  doubt 
over  his  fairest  words.  He  says  he  has  the  most  import- 
ant proposition  of  my  life  to  place  before  me  to-day,  and 
I'm  at  a  loss  how  to  meet  him — whether  as  a  well-mean- 
ing friend  or  a  scheming  scoundrel.  He's  a  puzzle  to 
me." 

"  Well,  Charlie,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  he  is  a 


192  The  Leopard's  Spots 

puzzle  to  me.  I've  always  been  strangely  attracted  to 
him,  even  when  he  was  a  big  red-headed  brute  of  a  boy. 
The  Doctor  always  disliked  him  and  I  thought,  mis- 
judged him.  He  has  always  paid  me  the  supremest 
deference,  and  of  late  years  the  most  subtle  flattery.  No 
woman,  who  feels  her  life  a  failure,  as  I  do  mine,  can  be 
indifferent  to  such  a  compliment  from  a  man  of  trained 
mind  and  masterful  character.  This  is  a  sore  subject 
between  the  Doctor  and  myself.  And  when  I  see  him 
shaking  hands  a  little  too  lingeringly  with  admiring  sis- 
ters after  his  services,  I  repay  him  with  a  chat  with  my 
devoted  McLeod.  Don't  ask  me.  I  like  him,  and  I 
don't  like  him.  I  admire  him  and  at  the  same  time  I 
suspect  and  half  fear  him." 

"  Strange  we  feel  so  much  alike  about  him.  But 
your  heart  has  always  been  very  close  to  mine, 
since  you  slipped  your  arm  around  me  that  night  my 
mother  died.  I  know  about  what  he  will  say,  and  I  know 
about  what  I'll  do."  He  stooped  and  kissed  his  foster- 
mother  tenderly. 

"  Charlie,  I'm  in  earnest  about  my  pretty  girl  that's 
coming.  Don't  forget  it." 

"Bah!    You've  fooled  me  before." 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  VOICE  OF  THE  TEMPTER 

McLEOD  was  waiting  with  some  impatience  in 
his  room  at  the  hotel. 
"  Walk  in  Gaston,  you're  a  little  late.    How- 
ever, better  late  than  never."     McLeod  plunged  directly 
into  the  purpose  of  his  visit. 

"  Gaston  you're  a  man  of  brains,  and  oratorical  genius. 
I  heard  your  speech  in  the  last  Democratic  convention 
in  Raleigh,  and  I  don't  say  it  to  flatter  you,  that  was  the 
greatest  speech  made  in  any  assembly  in  this  state  since 
the  war." 

"  Thanks ! "  said  Gaston  with  a  wave  of  his  arm. 

"  I  mean  it.  You  know  too  much  to  be  in  sympathy 
with  the  old  moss-backs  who  are  now  running  this  state. 
For  fourteen  years,  the  South  has  marched  to  the  polls 
and  struck  blindly  at  the  Republican  party,  and  three 
times  it  struck  to  kill.  The  Southern  people  have  noth- 
ing in  common  with  these  Northern  Democrats  who  make 
your  platforms  and  nominate  your  candidate.  You  don't 
ask  anything  about  the  platform  or  the  man.  You  would 
vote  for  the  devil  if  the  Democrats  nominated  him,  and 
ask  no  questions;  and  what  infuriates  me  is  you  vote  to 
enforce  platforms  that  mean  economic  ruin  to  the  South." 

"  Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  McLeod." 

"  Sure,  but  he  can't  live  on  dead  men's  bones.  You 
vote  in  solid  mass  on  the  Negro  question,  which  you 
settled  by  the  power  of  Anglo-Saxon  insolence  when 
you  destroyed  the  Reconstruction  governments  at  a  blow. 

193 


194  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Why  should  you  keep  on  voting  against  every  interest 
of  the  South,  merely  because  you  hate  the  name  Re- 
publican ?  " 

"  Why?  Simply  because  so  long  as  the  Negro  is  here 
with  a  ballot  in  his  hands  he  is  a  menace  to  civilisation. 
The  Republican  party  placed  him  here.  The  name  Re- 
publican will  stink  in  the  South  for  a  century,  not  be- 
cause they  beat  us  in  war,  but  because  two  years  after 
the  war,  in  profound  peace,  they  inaugurated  a  second 
war  on  the  unarmed  people  of  the  South,  butchering  the 
starving,  the  wounded,  the  women  and  children.  God 
in  heaven,  will  I  ever  forget  that  day  they  murdered  my 
mother!  Their  attempt  to  establish  v/ith  the  bayonet  an 
African  barbarism  on  the  ruins  of  Southern  society  was 
a  conspiracy  against  human  progress.  It  was  the  black- 
est crime  of  the  nineteenth  century." 

"  You  are  talking  in  a  dead  language.  We  are  living 
in  a  new  world." 

"  But  principles  are  eternal." 

"  Principles  ?  I'm  not  talking  about  principles.  I'm 
talking  about  practical  politics.  The  people  down  here 
haven't  voted  on  a  principle  in  years.  They've  been  vot- 
ing on  old  Simon  Legree.  He  left  the  state  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  century  ago." 

"  Yes,  McLeod,  but  his  soul  has  gone  marching  on. 
The  Republican  party  fought  the  South  because  such 
men  as  Legree  lived  in  it,  and  abused  the  negroes,  and 
the  moment  they  won,  turn  and  make  Legree  and  his 
breed  their  pets.  Simon  Legree  is  more  than  a  mere  man 
who  stole  five  millions  of  dollars,  alienated  the  races,  and 
covered  the  South  with  the  desolation  of  anarchy.  He  is 
an  idea.  He  represents  everything  that  the  soul  of  the 
South  loathes,  and  that  the  Republican  party  has  tried 
to  ram  down  our  throats,  Negro  supremacy  in  politics, 
and  Negro  equality  in  society." 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  195 

"  You  are  talking  about  the  dead  past,  Gaston.  I'm 
surprised  at  a  man  of  your  brain  living  under  such  a 
delusion.  How  can  there  be  Negro  supremacy  when  they 
are  in  a  minority  ?  " 

"  Supremacy  under  a  party  system  is  always  held  by 
a  minority.  The  dominant  faction  of  a  party  rules  the 
party,  and  the  successful  party  rules  the  state.  If  the 
Negro  only  numbered  one-fifth  the  population  and  they 
all  belonged  to  one  party,  they  could  dictate  the  policy 
of  that  party." 

"  You  know  that  a  few  white  brains  really  rule  that 
black  mob." 

"  Yes,  but  the  black  mob  defines  the  limits  within  which 
you  live  and  have  your  being." 

"  Gaston,  the  time  has  come  to  shake  off  this  night- 
mare, and  face  the  issues  of  our  day  and  generation.  We 
are  going  to  win  in  this  campaign,  but  I  want  you.  I 
like  you.  You  are  the  kind  of  man  we  need  now  to  take 
the  field  and  lead  in  this  campaign." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  win  ?  " 

"  We  are  going  to  form  a  contract  with  the  Farmer's 
Alliance  and  break  the  backbone  of  the  Bourbon  Democ- 
racy of  the  South.  The  farmers  have  now  a  compact 
body  of  50,000  voters,  thoroughly  organised,  and  com- 
bined with  the  negro  vote  we  can  hold  this  state  until 
Gabriel  blows  his  trumpet." 

"  That's  a  pretty  scheme.  Our  farmers  are  crazy  now 
with  all  sorts  of  fool  ideas,"  said  Gaston  thought- 
fully. 

"  Exactly,  my  boy,  and  we've  got  them  by  the  nose." 

"If  you  can  carry  through  that  programme,  you've 
got  us  in  a  hole." 

"  In  a  hole?  I  should  say  we've  got  you  in  the  bottom- 
less pit  with  the  lid  bolted  down.  You'll  not  even  rise 
at  the  day  of  judgment.  It  won't  be  necessary !  "  laughed 


196  The  Leopard's  Spots 

McLeod,  and  as  he  laughed  changed  his  tone  in  the  midst 
of  his  laughter. 

"  And  what  is  the  great  proposition  you  have  to  make 
to  me  ?  "  asked  Gaston. 

"  Join  with  us  in  this  new  coalition,  and  stump  the 
state  for  us.  Your  fortune  will  be  made,  win  or  lose. 
I'll  see  that  the  National  Republican  Committee  pays  you 
a  thousand  dollars  a  week  for  your  speeches,  at  least 
five  a  week,  two  hundred  dollars  apiece.  If  we  lose,  you 
will  make  ten  thousand  dollars  in  the  canvass,  and 
stand  in  line  for  a  good  office  under  the  National  Ad- 
ministration. If  we  win,  I'll  put  you  in  the  Governor's 
Palace  for  four  years.  There's  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of 
men,  you  know.  It's  at  the  flood  at  this  moment  for 
you." 

Gaston  was  silent  a  moment  and  looked  thoughtfully 
out  of  the  window.  The  offer  was  a  tremendous 
temptation.  A  group  of  old  fogies  had  dominated  the 
Democratic  party  for  ten  years,  and  had  kept  the  younger 
men  down  with  their  war  cries  and  old  soldier  candi- 
dates, until  he  had  been  more  than  once  disgusted.  He 
felt  as  sure  of  McLeod's  success  as  if  he  already  saw  it. 
It  was  precisely  the  movement  he  had  warned  the  old 
pudding-head  set  against  in  the  preceding  compaign  in 
which  they  had  deliberately  alienated  the  Farmer's  Alli- 
ance. They  had  pooh  poohed  his  warning  and  blundered 
on  to  their  ruin. 

It  was  the  dream  of  his  life  to  have  money  enough  to 
buy  back  his  mother's  old  home,  beautify  it,  and  live 
there  in  comfort  with  a  great  library  of  books  he  would 
gather.  The  possibility  of  a  career  at  the  state  Capital 
and  then  at  Washington  for  so  young  a  man  was  one  of 
dazzling  splendour  to  his  youthful  mind.  For  the  mo- 
ment it  seemed  almost  impossible  to  say  no. 

McLeod  saw  his  hesitation  and  already  smiled  with  the 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  197 

certainty  of  triumph.  A  cloud  overspread  his  face  when 
Gaston  at  length  said, 

"  I'll  give  you  my  answer  to-morrow." 

"  All  right,  you're  a  gentleman.  I  can  trust  you.  Our 
conversation  is  of  course  only  between  you  and  me." 

"  Certainly,  I  understand  that." 

All  that  day  and  night  he  was  alone  fighting  out  the 
battle  in  his  soul.  It  was  an  easy  solution  of  life  that 
opened  before  him.  The  attainment  of  his  proudest  am- 
bitions lay  within  his  grasp  almost  without  a  struggle. 
Such  a  campaign,  with  his  name  on  the  lips  of  surging 
thousands  around  those  speaker's  stands,  was  an  idea 
that  fascinated  him  with  a  serpent  charm. 

All  that  he  had  to  do  was  to  give  up  his  prejudices  on 
the  Negro  question.  His  own  party  stood  for  no  princi- 
ple except  the  supremacy  of  the  Anglo-Saxon.  On  the 
issue  of  the  party  platforms,  he  was  in  accord  with  the 
modern  Republican  utterances  at  almost  every  issue,  and 
so  were  his  associates  in  the  Southern  Democracy.  The 
Negro  was  the  point.  What  was  the  use  now  of  per- 
sisting in  the  stupid  reiteration  of  the  old  slogan  of  white 
supremacy?  The  Negro  had  the  ballot.  He  was  still 
the  ward  of  the  nation,  and  likely  to  be  for  all  time,  so 
far  as  he  could  see.  The  Negro  was  the  one  pet  super- 
stition of  the  millions  who  lived  where  no  negro  dwelt. 
His  person  and  his  ballot  were  held  more  peculiarly 
sacred  and  inviolate  in  the  South  than  that  of  any  white 
man  elsewhere. 

The  possibility  of  a  reunion  in  friendly  understanding 
and  sympathy  between  the  masses  of  the  North  and  the 
masses  of  the  South  seemed  remote  and  impossible  in  his 
day  and  generation. 

He  asked  himself  the  question,  could  such  a  revolu- 
tion toward  universal  suffrage  ever  go  backward,  no 
matter  how  base  the  motive  which  gave  it  birth?  Why 


198  The  Leopard's  Spots 

not  give  up  impracticable  dreams,  accept  things  as  they 
are,  and  succeed? 

He  did  not  confer  with  the  Rev.  John  Durham  on  this 
question,  because  he  knew  what  his  answer  would  be 
without  asking.  A  thousand  times  he  had  said  to  him, 
with  the  emphasis  he  could  give  to  words, 

"My  boy,  the  future  American  must  be  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  or  a  Mulatto!  We  are  now  deciding  which  it 
shall  be.  The  future  of  the  world  depends  on  the  future 
of  this  Republic.  This  Republic  can  have  no  future  if 
racial  lines  are  broken,  and  its  proud  citizenship  sinks  to 
the  level  of  a  mongrel  breed  of  Mulattoes.  The  South 
must  fight  this  battle  to  a  finish.  Two  thousand  years 
look  down  upon  the  struggle,  and  two  thousand  years  of 
the  future  bend  low  to  catch  the  message  of  life  or 
death!" 

He  could  see  now  his  drawn  face  with  its  deep  lines 
and  his  eyes  flashing  with  passion  as  he  said  this.  These 
words  haunted  Gaston  now  with  strange  power  as  he 
walked  along  the  silent  streets. 

He  walked  down  past  his  old  home,  stopped  and  leaned 
on  the  gate,  and  looked  at  it  long  and  lovingly.  What  a 
flood  of  tender  and  sorrowful  memories  swept  his  soul! 
He  lived  over  again  the  days  of  despair  when  his  mother 
was  an  invalid.  He  recalled  their  awful  poverty,  and 
then  the  last  terrible  day  with  that  mob  of  negroes 
trampling  over  the  lawn  and  overrunning  the  house.  He 
saw  the  white  face  of  his  mother  whose  memory  he  loved 
as  he  loved  life.  And  now  he  recalled  a  sentence  from 
her  dying  lips.  He  had  all  but  lost  its  meaning. 

"  You  will  grow  to  be  a  brave  strong  man.  You  will 
fight  this  battle  out,  and  win  back  our  home,  and  bring 
your  own  bride  here  in  the  far  away  days  of  sunshine 
and  success  I  see  for  you." 

You  will  fight  this  battle  out — he  had  almost  lost  that 


The  Voice  of  the  Tempter  199 

pentence  in  his  hunger  for  that  which  followed.  It  came 
to  his  soul  now  ringing  like  a  trumpet  call  to  honour  and 
duty. 

He  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  rapidly  home.  He 
looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  We  will'  fight  it  out  on  the  old  lines,"  he  said  to 
McLeod  next  day. 

"  You  will  find  me  a  pretty  good  fighter." 

"Unto  death,  let  it  be,"  answered  Gaston  firmly  set- 
ting his  lips. 

"  I  admire  your  pluck,  but  I'm  sorry  for  your  judg- 
ment. You  know  you're  beaten  before  you  begin." 

"  Defeat  that's  seen  has  lost  its  bitterness  before  it 
comes." 

"  Then  get  ready  the  flowers  for  the  funeral.  I  hoped 
you  would  have  better  sense.  You  are  one  of  the  men 
now  I'll  have  to  crush  first,  thoroughly,  and  for  all  time. 
I'm  not  afraid  of  the  old  fools.  I'll  be  fair  enough  to  tell 
you  this,"  said  McLeod. 

"  Not  since  Legree's  day  has  the  Republican  party  had 
so  dangerous  a  man  at  its  head,"  said  Gaston  thoughtfully 
to  himself  as  McLeod  strode  away  across  the  square. 
"  He  has  ten  times  the  brains  of  his  older  master,  and 
none  of  his  superstitions.  He  will  give  me  a  hard  fight." 


CHAPTER  III 
FLORA 

HAMBRIGHT  had  changed  but  little  in  the  eigh- 
teen years  of  peace  that  had  followed  the 
terrors  of  Legree's  regime.  The  population 
had  doubled,  though  but  few  houses  had  been  built.  The 
town  had  not  grown  from  the  development  of  industry, 
but  for  a  very  simple  reason — the  country  people  had 
moved  into  the  town,  seeking  refuge  from  a  new  terror 
that  was  growing  of  late  more  and  more  a  menace  to  a 
country  home,  the  roving  criminal  negro. 

The  birth  of  a  girl  baby  was  sure  to  make  a  father 
restless,  and  when  the  baby  looked  up  into  his  face  one 
day  with  the  soft  light  of  a  maiden,  he  gave  up  his  farm 
and  moved  to  town. 

The  most  important  development  of  these  eighteen 
years  was  the  complete  alienation  of  the  white  and  black 
races  as  compared  with  the  old  familiar  trust  of  domestic 
life. 

When  Legree  finished  his  work  as  the  master  artificer 
of  the  Reconstruction  Policy,  he  had  dug  a  gulf  between 
the  races  as  deep  as  hell.  It  had  never  been  bridged. 
The  deed  was  done  and  it  had  crystallised  into  the  solid 
rock  that  lies  at  the  basis  of  society.  It  was  done  at  a 
formative  period,  and  it  could  no  more  be  undone  now 
than  you  could  roll  the  universe  back  in  its  course. 

The  younger  generation  of  white  men  only  knew  the 
Negro  as  an  enemy  of  his  people  in  politics  and  society. 

200 


Flora  201 

He  never  came  in  contact  with  him  except  in  menial 
service,  in  which  the  service  rendered  was  becoming 
more  and  more  trifling,  and  his  habits  more  insolent. 
He  had  his  separate  schools,  churches,  preachers  and 
teachers,  and  his  political  leaders  were  the  beneficiaries 
of  Legree's  legacies. 

With  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  guarding  the  door  of  mar- 
riage with  fire  and  sword,  the  effort  was  being  made  to 
build  a  nation  inside  a  nation  of  two  antagonistic  races. 
No  such  thing  had  ever  been  done  in  the  history  of  the 
human  race,  even  under  the  development  of  the  monar- 
chial  and  aristocratic  forms  of  society.  How  could  it 
be  done  under  the  formulas  of  Democracy  with  Equality 
as  the  fundamental  basis  of  law?  And  yet  this  was  the 
programme  of  the  age. 

Gaston  was  feeling  blue  from  the  reaction  which  fol- 
lowed his  temptation  by  McLeod.  His  duty  was  clear 
the  night  before  as  he  walked  firmly  homeward,  recalling 
the  tragedy  of  the  past.  Now  in  the  cold  light  of  day, 
the  past  seemed  far  away  and  unreal.  The  present  was 
near,  pressing,  vital.  He  laid  down  a  book  he  was  try- 
ing to  read,  locked  his  office  and  strolled  down  town  to 
see  Tom  Camp. 

This  old  soldier  had  come  to  be  a  sort  of  oracle  to  him. 
His  affection  for  the  son  of  his  Colonel  was  deep  and 
abiding,  and  his  extravagant  flattery  of  his  talents  and 
future  were  so  evidently  sincere  they  always  acted  as  a 
tonic.  And  he  needed  a  tonic  to-day. 

Tom  was  seated  in  a  chair  in  his  yard  under  a  big 
cedar,  working  on  a  basket,  and  a  little  golden-haired 
girl  was  playing  at  his  feet.  It  was  his  old  home  he  had 
lost  in  Legree's  day,  but  had  got  back  through  the  help 
of  General  Worth,  who  came  up  one  day  and  paid  back 
Tom's  gift  of  lightwood  in  gleaming  yellow  metal.  His 
long  hair  and  full  beard  were  white  now,  and  his  eyes 


2O2  The  Leopard's  Spots 

had  a  soft  deep  look  that  told  of  sorrows  borne  in  pa- 
tience and  faith  beyond  the  ken  of  the  younger  man.  It 
was  this  look  on  Tom's  face  that  held  Gaston  like  a  mag- 
net when  he  was  in  trouble. 

"  Tom,  I'm  blue  and  heartsick.  I've  come  down  to 
have  you  cheer  me  up  a  little." 

"You've  got  the  blues?  Well  that  is  a  joke!"  cried 
Tom.  "  You,  young  and  handsome,  the  best  educated 
man  in  the  county,  the  finest  orator  in  the  state,  life  all 
before  you,  and  God  fillin'  the  world  to-day  with  sun- 
shine and  spring  flowers,  and  all  for  you!  You  blue! 
That  is  a  joke."  And  Tom's  voice  rang  in  hearty 
Daughter. 

"  Come  here,  Flora,  and  kiss  me,  you  won't  laugh  at 
me,  will  you  ?  " 

The  child  climbed  up  into  his  lap,  slipped  her  little 
arms  around  his  neck  and  hugged  and  kissed  him. 

"  Now,  once  more,  dearie,  long  and  close  and  hard — 
oh !  That's  worth  a  pound  of  candy !  "  Again  she 
squeezed  his  neck  and  kissed  him,  looking  into  his  face 
with  a  smile. 

"  I  love  you,  Charlie,"  she  said  with  quaint  serious- 
ness. 

"  Do  you,  dear  ?  Well,  that  makes  me  glad.  If  I  can 
win  the  love  of  as  pretty  a  little  girl  as  you  I'm  not  a 
failure,  am  I  ?  "  And  he  smoothed  her  curls. 

"  Ain't  she  sweet  ?  "  cried  Tom  with  pride  as  he  laid 
aside  his  basket  and  looked  at  her  with  moistened 
eyes. 

"  Tom,  she's  the  sweetest  child  I  ever  saw.  " 

"Yes,  she's  God's  last  and  best  gift  to  me,  to  show 
me  He  still  loved  me.  Talk  about  trouble.  Man,  you're 
a  baby.  You  ain't  cut  your  teeth  yet.  Wait  till  you've 
seen  some  things  I've  seen.  Wait  till  you've  seen 
the  light  of  the  world  go  out,  and  staggerin'  in  the 


Flora  203 

dark  met  the  devil  face  to  face,  and  looked  him  in  the 
eye,  and  smelled  the  pit.  And  then  feel  him  knock  you 
down  in  it,  and  the  red  waves  roll  over  you  and  smother 
you.  I've  been  there." 

Tom  paused  and  looked  at  Gaston.  "You  weren't 
here  when  I  come  to  the  end  of  the  world,  the  time  when 
that  baby  was  born,  and  Annie  died  with  the  little  red 
bundle  sleepin'  on  her  breast.  The  oldest  girl  was  mur- 
dered by  Legree's  nigger  soldiers.  Then  Annie  give  me 
that  little  gal.  Lord,  I  was  the  happiest  old  fool  that 
ever  lived  that  day!  And  then  when  I  looked  into 
Annie's  dead  face,  I  went  down,  down,  down!  But  I 
looked  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  pit  and  I  saw  the  light 
of  them  blue  eyes  and  I  heard  her  callin'  me  to  take 
her.  How  I  watched  her  and  nursed  her,  a  mother  and 
a  father  to  her,  day  and  night,  through  the  long  years, 
and  how  them  little  fingers  of  hers  got  hold  of  my  heart ! 
Now,  I  bless  the  Lord  for  all  His  goodness  and  mercy  to 
me.  She  will  make  it  all  right.  She's  going  to  be  a  lady 
and  such  a  beauty!  She's  goin'  to  school  now,  and  me 
and  the  General's  goin'  to  take  her  ter  college  bye  and 
bye,  and  she's  goin'  to  marry  some  big  handsome  fellow 
like  you,  and  her  crippled  grey  haired  daddy'll  live  in  her 
house  in  his  old  age.  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd  I  shall 
not  want.  " 

"  Tom,  you  make  me  ashamed." 

"You  ought  to  be,  man,  a  youngster  like  you  to  talk 
about  gettin'  the  blues.  What's  all  your  education  for?  " 

"  Sometimes  I  think  that  only  men  like  you  have  ever 
been  educated." 

"  G'long  with  your  foolishness,  boy.  I  ain't  never  had 
a  show  in  this  world.  The  nigger's  been  on  my  back 
since  I  first  toddled  into  the  world,  and  I  reckon  he'll  ride 
me  into  the  grave.  They  are  my  only  rivals  now  making 
them  baskets  and  they  always  undersell  me." 


2©4  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Gaston  started  as  Tom  uttered  the  last  sentence. 

"  With  you,  boy,  it's  all  plain  sailin'.  You're  the  best 
looking  chap  in  the  county.  I  was  a  dandy  when  I  was 
young.  It  does  me  good  to  look  at  you  if  you  don't  care 
nothin'  about  fine  clothes.  Then  you're  as  sharp  as  a 
razor.  There  ain't  a  man  in  No'th  Caliny  that  can  stand 
up  agin  you  on  the  stump.  I've  heard  'em  all.  You'll  be 
the  Governor  of  this  state.  " 

That  was  always  the  climax  of  Tom's  prophetic  flattery. 
He  could  think  of  no  grander  end  of  a  human  life  than 
to  crown  it  in  the  Governor's  Palace  of  North  Carolina. 
He  belonged  to  the  old  days  when  it  was  a  bigger  thing  to 
be  the  Governor  of  a  great  state  than  to  hold  any  office 
short  of  the  Presidency, — when  men  resigned  seats  in  the 
United  States  Senate  to  run  for  Governor,  and  when  the 
national  government  was  so  puny  a  thing  that  the  bankers 
of  Europe  refused  to  loan  money  on  United  States  bonds 
unless  countersigned  by  the  State  of  Virginia.  And  that 
was  not  so  long  ago.  The  bankers  sent  that  answer  to 
Buchanan's  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 

"  Tom,  you've  lifted  me  out  of  the  dumps.  I  owe  you 
a  doctor's  fee,"  cried  Gaston  with  enthusiasm  as  he  placed 
Flora  back  on  the  grass  and  started  to  his  office. 

"All  I  charge  you  is  to  come  again.  The  old  man's 
proud  of  his  young  friend.  You  make  me  feel  like  I'm 
somebody  in  the  old  world  after  all.  And  some  day 
when  you're  great  and  rich  and  famous  and  the  world's 
full  of  your  name,  I'll  tell  folks  I  know  you  like  my  own 
boy,  and  I'll  brag  about  how  many  times  you  used  to 
come  to  see  me." 

"  Hush,  Tom,  you  make  me  feel  silly,"  said  Gaston  as 
he  warmly  pressed  the  old  fellow's  hand.  He  went  back 
toward  his  office  with  lighter  step  and  more  buoyant  heart. 
His  mind  was  as  clear  as  the  noonday  sun  that  was  now 
flooding  the  green  fresh  world  with  its  splendour.  He 


Flora  205 

would  stand  by  his  own  people.  He  would  sink  or  swim 
with  them.  If  poverty  and  failure  were  the  result,  let 
it  be  so.  If  success  came,  all  the  better.  There  were 
things  more  to  be  desired  than  gold. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  ONE  WOMAN 

G  ASTON  called  at  the  post-office  to  get  his  mail. 
One  relief  the  Cleveland  administration  had 
brought  Hambright — a  decent  citizen  in  charge 
of  the  post-office.  Dave  Haley  had  given  place  to  a 
Democrat  and  was  now  scheming  and  working  with 
McLeod  for  the  "  salvation "  of  »the  state,  which  of 
course  meant  for  the  old  slave  trader  the  restoration 
of  his  office  under  a  Republican  administration.  If 
the  South  had  held  no  other  reason  for  hating  the 
Republican  party,  the  character  of  the  men  appointed 
to  Federal  office  was  enough  to  send  every  honest  man 
hurrying  into  the  opposite  party  without  asking  any  ques- 
tions as  to  its  principles. 

Sam  Love,  the  new  postmaster  was  a  jovial,  honest, 
lazy,  good-natured  Democrat  whose  ideal  of  a  luxurious 
life  was  attained  in  his  office.  He  handed  Gaston  his  mail 
with  a  giggle. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Sam?" 

"  Nuthin'  'tall.  I  just  thought  I'd  tell  you  that  I  like 
her  handwriting,"  he  laughed. 

"  How  dare  you  study  the  handwriting  on  my  letters, 
sir!" 

"  What's  the  use  of  being  postmaster  ?  There  ain't  no 
big  money  in  it.  I  just  take  pride  in  the  office,"  said 
Sam  genially.  "That's  a  new  one,  ain't  it?  " 

Gaston  looked  at  the  letter  incredulously.  It  was  a 

206 


The  One  Woman  207 

new  one, — a  big  square  envelope  with  a  seal  on  the  back 
of  it,  addressed  to  him  in  the  most  delicate  feminine  hand, 
and  postmarked  "  Independence." 

"  Great  Scott,  this  is  interesting,"  he  cried,  breaking 
the  seal. 

When  the  postmaster  saw  he  was  going  to  open  it 
right  there  in  the  office,  he  stepped  around  in  front  and 
looking  over  his  shoulder  said, 

"What  is  it,  Charlie?" 

"  It's  an  invitation  from  the  Ladies*  Memorial  Asso- 
ciation to  deliver  the  Memorial  day  oration  at  Independ- 
ence the  loth  of  May.  That's  great.  No  money  in  it, 
but  scores  of  pretty  girls,  big  speech,  congratulations,  the 
lion  of  the  hour !  Don't  you  wish  you  were  really  a  man 
of  brains,  Sam  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  I'm  married.    It  would  be  a  waste  now." 

"  Sam,  I'll  be  there.  Got  the  biggest  speech  of  my 
life  all  cocked  and  primed,  full  of  pathos  and  eloquence, 
— been  working  on  it  at  odd  times  for  four  years.  They'll 
think  it  a  sudden  inspiration." 

"What's  the  name  of  it?" 

"The  Message  of  the  New  South  to  the  Glorious 
Old." 

"  That  sounds  bully,  that  ought  to  fetch  'em." 

"  It  will,  my  boy,  and  when  Dave  Haley  gets  this  post- 
office  away  from  you  in  the  dark  days  coming,  I'll  publish 
that  speech  in  a  pamphlet,  and  you  can  peddle  it  at  a 
quarter  and  make  a  good  living  for  your  children." 

"  Don't  talk  like  that,  Gaston,  that  isn't  funny  at  all. 
You  don't  think  the  Radicals  have  got  any  chance?  " 

"  Chance !    Between  you  and  me  they'll  win." 

Sam  went  back  to  the  desk  without  another  word,  a 
great  fear  suddenly  darkening  the  future.  McLeod  had 
gotten  off  the  same  joke  on  him  the  day  before.  It 
sounded  ominous  coming  from  both  sides  like  that  He 


208  The  Leopard's  Spots 

took  up  his  party  paper,  "The  Old  Timer's  Gazette" 
and  read  over  again  the  sure  prophecies  of  victory  and 
felt  better. 

Gaston  accepted  the  invitation  with  feverish  haste.  He 
had  it  all  ready  to  put  in  the  office  for  the  return  mail 
to  Independence.  But  he  was  ashamed  to  appear  in  such 
a  hurry,  so  he  held  the  letter  over  until  the  next  day. 
He  proudly  showed  the  invitation  to  Mrs.  Durham. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that,  Auntie?  " 

"  Immense .  You  will  meet  Miss  Sallie  sure.  That 
letter  is  in  her  handwriting.  She's  the  Secretary  of  the 
Association  and  signed  the  Committee's  names." 

"  You  don't  say  that's  the  great  and  only  one's  hand- 
writing ! " 

"  Couldn't  be  mistaken.  It  has  a  delicate  distinction 
about  it.  I'd  know  it  anywhere." 

"  It  is  beautiful,"  acknowledged  Gaston  looking 
thoughtfully  at  the  letter. 

"  I  wish  you  had  a  new  suit,  Charlie." 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  it  myself,  if  I  had  the  money. 
But  clothes  don't  interest  me  much,  just  so  I'm  fairly 
decent." 

"  I'll  loan  you  the  money,  if  you  will  promise  me  to 
devote  yourself  faithfully  to  Sallie." 

"  Never.  I'll  not  sell  my  interest  in  all  those  acres  of 
pretty  girls  just  for  one  I  never  saw  and  a  suit  of  clothes. 
No  thanks.  I'm  going  down  there  with  a  premonition  I 
may  find  Her  of  whom  I've  dreamed.  They  say  that 
town  is  full  of  beauties." 

"  You're  so  conceited.  That's  all  the  more  reason  you 
should  look  your  best." 

"  I  don't  care  so  much  about  looks.  I'm  going  to  do 
my  best,  whatever  I  look." 

"  Oh,  you  know  you're  good  looking  and  you  don't 
care,'''  said  his  foster  mother  with  pride. 


The  One  Woman  209 

On  the  loth  of  May  Independence  was  in  gala 
robes.  The  long  rows  of  beautiful  houses,  with  dark 
blue  grass  lawns  on  which  giant  oaks  spread  their  cool 
arms,  were  gay  with  bunting,  and  with  flowers,  flowers 
everywhere !  Every  urchin  on  the  street  and  every  man, 
woman  and  child  wore  or  carried  flowers. 

The  reception  committee  met  Gaston  at  the  depot  on 
the  arrival  of  the  excursion  train  that  ran  from  Ham- 
bright.  He  was  placed  in  an  open  carriage  beside  a  hand- 
some chattering  society  woman,  and  drawn  by  two  pran- 
cing horses,  was  escorted  to  the  hotel,  where  he  was  intro- 
duced to  the  distinguished  old  soldiers  of  the  Confed- 
eracy. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  procession  was  formed.  What  a 
sight !  It  stretched  from  the  hotel  down  the  shaded  pave- 
ments a  mile  toward  the  cemetery,  two  long  rows  of  beau- 
tiful girls  holding  great  bouquets  of  flowers.  This  long 
double  line  of  beauty  and  sweetness  opened,  and  escorted 
gravely  by  the  oldest  General  of  the  Confederacy  present, 
he  walked  through  this  mile  of  smiling  girls  and  flowers . 
Behind  him  tramped  the  veterans,  some  with  one  arm, 
some  with  wooden  legs. 

When  they  passed  through,  the  double  line  closed, 
and  two  and  two  the  hundreds  of  girls  carried  their 
flowers  in  solemn  procession.  Here  was  the  throbbing 
soul  of  the  South,  keeping  fresh  the  love  of  her  heroic 
dead. 

They  spread  out  over  the  great  cemetery  like  a  host  of 
ministering  angels.  There  was  a  bugle  call.  They  bent 
low  a  moment,  and  flowers  were  smiling  over  every  grave 
from  the  greatest  to  the  lowliest . 

And  then  to  a  stone  altar  marked  "  To  the  Unknown 
Dead,"  they  came  and  heaped  up  roses.  Then  a  group 
of  sad-faced  women  dressed  in  black,  with  quaint  little 
bonnets  wreathing  their  brows  like  nuns,  went  silently 


a  10  The  Leopard's  Spots 

over  to  the  National  Cemetery  across  the  way  and  each 
taking  a  basket,  walked  past  the  long  lines  of  the  dead 
their  boys  had  fought  and  dropped  a  single  rose  on  every 
soldier's  grave.  They  were  women  whose  boys  were 
buried  in  strange  lands  in  lonely  unmarked  trenches. 
They  were  doing  now  what  they  hoped  some  woman's 
hand  would  do  for  their  lost  heroes. 

The  crowd  silently  gathered  around  the  speakers'  stand 
and  took  their  seats  in  the  benches  placed  beneath  the 
trees. 

Gaston  had  never  seen  this  ceremony  so  lavishly  and 
beautifully  performed  before.  He  was  overwhelmed 
with  emotion.  His  father's  straight  soldierly  figure  rose 
before  him  in  imagination,  and  with  him  all  the  silent  hosts 
that  now  bivouacked  with  the  dead.  His  soul  was  melted 
with  the  infinite  pathos  and  pity  of  it  all. 

He  had  intended  to  say  some  sharp  epigrammatic 
things  that  would  cut  the  chronic  moss-backs  that  cling  to 
the  platforms  on  such  occasions.  But  somehow  when  he 
began  they  were  melted  out  of  his  speech.  He  spoke  with 
a  tenderness  and  reverence  that  stilled  the  crowd  in  a 
moment  like  low  music. 

His  tribute  to  the  dead  was  a  poem  of  rhythmic  and< 
exalted  thoughts.  The  occasion  was  to  him  an  inspira-' 
tion  and  the  people  hung  breathless  on  his  words.  His 
voice  was  never  strained  but  was  penetrated  and  thrilled 
with  thought  packed  until  it  burst  into  the  flame  of  speech. 
He  felt  with  conscious  power  his  mastery  of  his  audience. 
He  was  surprised  at  his  own  mood  of  extraordinary  ten- 
derness as  he  felt  his  being  softened  by  that  oldest  re- 
ligion of  the  ages,  the  worship  of  the  dead — as  old  as 
sorrow  and  as  everlasting  as  death!  He  was  for  the 
moment  clay  in  the  hands  of  some  mightier  spirit  above 
him. 

He  had  spoken  perhaps  fifteen  minutes  when  suddenly, 


The  One  Woman  HI 

straight  in  front  of  him,  he  looked  into  the  face  of  the 
One  Woman  of  all  his  dreams ! 

There  she  sat  as  still  as  death,  her  beautiful  face  tense 
with  breathless  interest,  her  fluted  red  lips  parted  as  if 
half  in  wonder,  half  in  joy,  over  some  strange  revelation, 
and  her  great  blue  eyes  swimming  in  a  mist  of  tears .  He 
smiled  a  look  of  recognition  into  her  soul  and  she  an- 
swered with  a  smile  that  seemed  to  say  "  I've  known  you 
always .  Why  haven't  you  seen  me  sooner  ?  "  He  rec- 
ognised her  instantly  from  Mrs.  Durham's  description 
and  his  heart  gave  a  cry  of  joy.  From  that  moment  every 
word  that  he  uttered  was  spoken  to  her.  Sometimes  as 
he  would  look  straight  through  her  eyes  into  her  soul,  she 
would  flush  red  to  the  roots  of  her  brown-black  hair,  but 
she  never  lowered  her  gaze.  He  closed  his  speech  in  a 
round  of  applause  that  was  renewed  again  and  again. 

His  old  classmate,  Bob  St.  Clare,  rushed  forward  to 
greet  him. . 

"  Old  fellow,  you've  covered  yourself  with  glory .  By 
George,  that  was  great!  Come,  here's  a  hundred  girls 
want  to  meet  you." 

He  was  introduced  to  a  host  of  beauties  who  showered 
him  with  extravagant  compliments  which  he  accepted 
without  affectation.  He  knew  he  had  outdone  himself 
that  day,  and  he  knew  why.  The  One  Woman  he  had 
been  searching  the  world  for  was  there,  and  inspired  him 
beyond  all  he  had  ever  dared  before. 

He  was  disappointed  in  not  seeing  her  among  the  crowd 
who  were  shaking  his  hand.  He  looked  anxiously  over 
the  heads  of  those  near  by  to  see  if  she  had  gone.  He 
saw  her  standing  talking  to  two  stylishly  dressed  young 
men. 

When  the  crowd  had  melted  away  from  the  rostrum, 
she  walked  straight  toward  him  extending  her  hand  with 
a  gracious  smile. 


212  The  Leopard's  Spots 

He  knew  he  must  look  like  a  fool,  but  to  save  him 
he  could  not  help  it,  he  was  simply  bubbling  over  with 
delight  as  he  grasped  her  hand,  and  before  she  could  say 
a  word  he  said, 

"  You  are  Miss  Sallie  Worth,  the  Secretary  of  the  As- 
sociation. My  foster  mother  has  described  you  so  accu- 
rately I  should  know  you  among  a  thousand." 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  looking  forward  with  pleasure  to 
our  trip  to  the  Springs  when  I  knew  we  should  meet  you. 
I  am  delighted  to  see  you  a  month  earlier/'  She  said  this 
with  a  simple  earnestness  that  gave  it  a  deeper  meaning 
than  a  mere  commonplace. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  nearly  knocked  me  off  my 
feet  when  I  first  saw  you  in  the  crowd  ?  " 

"Why?    How?"  she  asked. 

"  You  startled  me." 

"  I  hope  not  unpleasantly,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  him 
with  her  blue  eyes  twinkling. 

"  Oh !  Heavens  no !  You  are  such  a  perfect  image  of 
the  girl  she  described  that  I  was  so  astonished  I  came 
near  shouting  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  "  There  she  is !  " 
And  that  would  have  astonished  the  audience,  wouldn't 
it?"  ,v 

"  It  would  indeed,"  she  replied  blushing  just  a  little. 

"  But  I'm  forgetting  my  mission,  Mr.  Gaston.  Papa 
sent  me  to  apologise  for  his  absence  to-day.  He  was 
called  out  of  the  city  on  some  mill  business.  He  told  me 
to  bring  you  home  to  dine  with  him.  I'm  the  Secretary, 
you  know  and  exercise  authority  in  these  matters,  so 
I've  fixed  that  programme.  You  have  no  choice.  The 
carriage  is  waiting." 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  MORNING  OF  LOVE 

TO  his  dying  day  Gaston  will  never  forget  that  ride 
to  her  home  with  Sallie  Worth  by  his  side.     It 
was  a  perfect  May  day.    The  leaves  on  the  trees 
were  just  grown  and  flashed  in  their  green  satin  under 
the  Southern  sun,  and  every  flower  seemed  in  full  bloom. 

A  great  joy  filled  his  heart  with  a  sense  of  divine 
restfulness.  He  was  unusually  silent.  And  then  she 
said  something  that  made  him  open  his  eyes  in  new 
wonder. 

"  Don't  drive  so  fast  Ben,  and  go  around  the  longest 
way,  I'm  enjoying  this."  She  paused  and  a  mischievous 
look  came  into  her  eyes  as  she  saw  his  expression.  "  I've 
got  the  lion  here  by  my  side.  I  want  to  show  all  the 
girls  in  town  that  I'm  the  only  one  here  to-day.  It  isn't 
often  I've  a  great  man  tied  down  fast  like  this." 

"  Why  did  you  spoil  the  first  part  of  that  pretty  speech 
with  the  last  ?  "  he  said  with  a  frown. 

"  It  was  only  your  vanity  that  made  me  pause." 

"Could  you  read  me  like  that?" 

"  Of  course,  all  men  are  vain,  mucfi  vainer  than 
women."  Again  there  was  a  long  silence. 

They  had  reached  the  outskirts  of  the  city  now  and 
were  driving  slowly  through  the  deep  shadows  of  a  great 
forest. 

"  What  beautiful  trees !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  They  are  fine.    Do  you  love  big  trees?  " 

213 


214  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Yes,  they  always  seem  to  me  to  have  a  soul.  It  used 
to  make  me  almost  cry  to  watch  them  fall  beneath  N  else's 
axe.  I'd  never  have  the  heart  to  clear  a  piece  of  woods 
if  I  owned  it." 

"  I'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that.  Papa  laughed  at 
me  when  I  said  something  of  the  sort  when  he  wanted  to 
cut  these  woods.  He  left  them  just  to  please  me.  They 
belong  to  our  place.  They  hide  the  house  till  you  get 
right  up  to  the  gate,  but  I  love  them." 

Again  he  looked  into  her  eyes  and  was  silent. 

"  Now,  I  come  to  think  of  it,  you're  the  only  girl  I've 
met  to-day  who  hasn't  mentioned  my  speech.  That's 
strange." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I'm  not  saving  up  something 
very  pretty  to  say  to  you  later  about  it?  " 

"  Tell  me  now." 

"  No,  you've  spoiled  it  by  your  vanity  in  asking."  She 
said  this  looking  away  carelessly. 

"  Then  I'll  interpret  your  silence  as  the  highest  com- 
pliment you  can  pay  me.  When  words  fail  we  are  deeply 
moved." 

"  Vanity  of  vanity,  all  is  vanity  saith  the  preacher ! " 
she  exclaimed  lifting  her  pretty  hands. 

They  turned  through  a  high  arched  iron  gateway,  across 
which  was  written  in  gold  letters,  "  Oakwood." 

On  a  gently  rising  hill  on  the  banks  of  the  Catawba 
river  rose  a  splendid  old  Southern  mansion,  its  big  Greek 
columns  gleaming  through  the  green  trees  like  polished 
ivory.  A  wide  porch  ran  across  the  full  width  of  the 
house  behind  the  big  pillars,  and  smaller  columns  sup- 
ported the  full  sweep  of  a  great  balcony  above.  The  house 
was  built  of  brick  with  Portland  cement  finish,  and  the 
whole  painted  in  two  shades  of  old  ivory,  with  moss-green 
roof  and  dark  rich  Pompeian  red  brick  foundations.  With 
its  green  background  of  magnolia  trees  it  seemed  like  a 


The  Morning  of  Love  215 

huge  block  of  solid  ivory  flashing  in  splendour  from  its 
throne  on  the  hill.  The  drive  wound  down  a  little  dale, 
around  a  great  circle  filled  with  shrubbery  and  flowers 
and  up  to  the  pillared  porte-cochere. 

"  Oh !  what  a  beautiful  home !  "  Gaston  exclaimed  with 
feeling. 

"  It  is  beautiful,  isn't  it?  "  she  said  with  delight.  "  I 
love  every  brick  in  its  walls,  every  tree  and  flower  and 
blade  of  grass .  " 

"  I've  always  dreamed  of  a  home  like  that*  Those  big 
columns  seem  to  link  one  to  the  past  and  add  dignity 
and  meaning  to  life." 

"  Then  you  can  understand  how  I  love  it,  when  I  was 
born  here  and  every  nook  and  corner  has  its  love  message 
for  me  from  the  past  that  I  have  lived,  as  well  as  its 
wider  meaning  which  you  see." 

"  The  old  South  built  beautiful  homes,  didn't  they  ? 
And  that  was  one  of  the  finest  things  about  the  proud  old 
days,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  and  the  new  South  of  which  you  spoke  to-day 
will  not  forget  this  heritage  of  the  old,  when  it  comes 
to  itself  and  shakes  off  its  long  suffering  and  poverty !  " 

Strange  to  hear  that  sort  of  a  speech  from  a  girl  who 
loves  society,  dances  divinely  and  dresses  to  kill.  He 
thought  of  the  words  of  his  foster  mother  with  a  pang. 
He  hoped  she  was  joking  about  those  things.  But  he  had 
a  strong  suspicion  from  the  consciousness  of  power  with 
which  she  had  tried  once  or  twice  to  tease  him  that  they 
were  going  to  prove  fatally  true. 

"  Mother  tells  me  you  were  in  Baltimore,  in  that  swell 
girls'  school  on  North  Charles  Street  when  I  was  a  stu- 
dent at  the  University  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  we  gave  reception  after  reception  to  the 
Hopkins  men  and  you  never  once  honoured  us  with  your 
presence." 


216  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  But  I  didn't  know  you  were  there,  Miss  Sallie." 

"  Of  course  not.  If  you  had,  I  wouldn't  speak  to.  you 
now.  They  said  you  were  a  recluse.  That  you  never 
went  into  society  and  didn't  speak  to  a  woman  for  four 
years." 

"  How  did  you  hear  that?  " 

"  Bob  St.  Clare  told  me  after  I  came  home  by  way  of 
apology  for  your  bad  manners  in  so  shamefully  neglect- 
ing a  young  woman  from  your  own  state." 

"  I'll  make  amends,  now." 

"  Oh !  I'm  not  suffering  from  loneliness  as  I  did  then. 
You  know  Bob  put  us  up  to  inviting  you  to  deliver  the 
address.  He  said  you  were  the  only  orator  in  North 
Carolina." 

"  Bob's  the  best  friend  I  ever  had.  We  entered  college 
together  at  fifteen,  and  became  inseparable  friends." 

He  helped  her  from  the  carriage  and  she  ran  lightly  up 
the  high  stoop. 

"  Now  come  here  and  look  at  the  view  of  the  river 
before  Papa  comes  and  begins  to  talk  about  the  tremen- 
dous water  power  in  the  falls." 

He  followed  her  to  the  end  of  the  long  porch  over- 
looking the  river.  Behind  the  house  the  hill  abruptly 
plunged  downward  to  the  waters'  edge  in  a  mountainous 
cliff.  The  river  wound  around  this  cliff  past  the  house, 
emerging  into  a  valley  where  it  described  a  graceful  curve 
almost  doubling  on  itself  and  rolled  softly  away  amid 
green  overhanging  willows  and  towering  sycamores  till 
lost  in  the  distance  toward  the  blue  spurs  of  King's 
Mountain. 

"  A  glorious  view !  "  said  Gaston,  looking  long  and  lov- 
ingly at  the  silver  surface  of  the  river. 

"  Do  you  love  the  water,  Mr.  Gaston  ?  " 

"  Passionately.  I  was  born  among  the  hills,  but  the 
first  time  I  saw  the  ocean  sweeping  over  five  miles  of 


The  Morning  of  Love  217 

sand  reefs  and  breaking  in  white  thundering  spray  at  my 
feet,  I  stood  there  on  a  sand  dune  on  our  wild  coast  and 
gazed  entranced  for  an  hour  without  moving.  Of  all  the 
things  God  ever  made  on  this  earth  I  love  the  waters  of 
the  sea,  and  all  moving  water  suggests  it  to  me.  That 
river  says,  I  must  hurry  to  the  sea !  " 

"  It  is  strange  we  should  have  such  similar  tastes,"  she 
said  seriously.  But  it  did  not  seem  strange  to  him.  Some- 
how he  expected  to  find  her  agree  with  every  whim  and 
fancy  of  his  nature. 

"  Now  we  will  find  Mama.  She  is  such  an  invalid  she 
rarely  goes  out.  Papa  will  be  home  any  minute." 

"  We  are  glad  to  welcome  you  Mr.  Gaston,"  said  her 
mother  in  a  kindly  manner.  "  I'm  sure  you've  enjoyed 
the  drive  this  beautiful  day  if  Sallie  hasn't  been  trying 
to  tease  you.  The  boys  say  she's  very  tiresome  at 
times/' 

"  Why  Mama,  I'm  surprised  at  you.  The  idea  of  such 
a  thing !  There's  not  a  word  of  truth  in  it,  is  there,  Mr. 
Gaston?" 

"  Certainly  not,  Miss  Sallie.  I'll  testify,  Mrs.  Worth, 
that  your  daughter  has  been  simply  charming." 

She  ran  to  meet  her  father  at  the  door.  There  was  the 
sound  of  a  hearty  kiss,  a  little  whispering,  and  the  Gen- 
eral stepped  briskly  into  the  parlour  where  she  had  left 
her  guest. 

"  Pleased  to  welcome  you  to  our  home,  young  man. 
They  say  down  town  that  you  made  the  greatest  speech 
ever  heard  in  Independence.  Sorry  I  missed  it.  We'll 
have  you  to  dinner  anyway.  I  knew  your  brave  father 
in  the  army.  And  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  saw  you 
once  when  you  were  a  boy.  I  was  struck  with  your  re- 
semblance to  your  father  then,  as  now.  You  showed 
me  the  way  down  to  Tom  Camp's  house.  Don't  you  re- 
member ?  " 


2i8  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Certainly  General,  but  I  didn't  flatter  myself  that  you 
would  recall  it." 

"  I  never  forget  a  face.  I  hope  you  have  been  enjoying 
yourself?" 

"  More  than  I  can  express,  sir." 

"  I'll  join  you  bye  and  bye,"  said  the  General,  taking 
leave. 

"  Now  isn't  he  a  dear  old  Papa  ?  "  she  said  demurely. 

"  He  certainly  knows  how  to  make  a  timid  young 
man  feel  at  home." 

"  Are  you  timid  ?  " 

"Hadn't  you  noticed  it?" 

"  Well,  hardly."  She  shook  her  head  and  closed  her 
eyes  in  the  most  tantalising  way.  "  To  see  the  cool  inso- 
lence of  conscious  power  with  which  you  looked  that 
great  crowd  in  the  face  when  you  arose  on  that  platform, 
I  shouldn't  say  I  was  struck  with  your  timidity/' 

"  I  was  really  trembling  from  head  to  foot." 

"  I  wonder  how  you  would  look  if  really  cool !  " 

"  Honestly,  Miss  Sallie,  I  never  speak  to  any  crowd 
without  the  intensest  nervous  excitement.  I  may  put  on 
a  brave  front,  but  it's  all  on  the  surface." 

"  I  can't  believe  it,"  she  said  shaking  her  head. 

She  looked  at  his  serious  face  a  moment  and  was 
silent. 

"  It's  queer  how  we  run  out  of  something  to  say,  isn't 
it  ?  "  she  asked  at  length. 

"  I  hadn't  thought  of  it." 

"  Come  up  to  the  observatory  and  111  show  you  Lord 
Cornwallis'  look-out  when  he  had  his  headquarters  here 
during  the  Revolution." 

She  lifted  her  soft  white  skirts  and  led  the  way  up  the 
winding  mahogany  stairs  into  the  observatory  from 
which  the  surrounding  country  could  be  seen  for  miles. 

"  Here  Lord   Cornwallis  waited  in  vain  for  Colonel 


The  Morning  of  Love  219 

Ferguson  to  join  him  with  his  regiment  from  King's 
Mountain." 

"Where  my  great-grandfather  was  drawing  around 
him  his  cordon  of  death  with  his  fierce  mountain  men ! n 
interrupted  Gaston. 

"  Was  your  great-grandf ather  in  that  battle  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  was  fought  on  his  land,  and  his  two-story  log 
house  with  the  rifle  holes  cut  in  the  chimney  jambs  still 
stands." 

"  Then  we  will  shake  hands  again/'  she  cried  with  en- 
thusiasm, "for  we  are  both  children  of  the  Revolu- 
tion!" 

Gaston  took  her  beautiful  hand  in  his  and  held  it 
lingeringly.  Never  in  all  his  life  had  the  mere  touch  of 
a  human  hand  thrilled  him  with  such  strange  power. 
How  long  he  held  it  he  could  not  tell  but  it  was  with  a 
sort  of  hurt  surprise  he  felt  her  gently  withdraw  it  at 
last. 

They  had  reached  the  parlour  again,  and  he  slowly 
fell  into  an  easy  chair. 

"  Do  you  dance,  Miss  Sallie?  " 

"  Why  yes,  don't  you  dance?  " 

*  Never  tried  in  my  life." 

"  Don't  you  approve  of  dancing?  " 

"  I  never  had  time  to  think  about  it  It  always  miuui 
silly  to  me," 

"  It's  great  fun." 

"  I'd  take  lessons  if  you  would  agree  to  teach  me,  and 
I  could  dance  with  you  all  the  time,  and  keep  all  the 
other  fellows  away." 

"  Well,  I  must  say  that's  doing  fairly  well  for  a  timid 
young  man's  first  day's  acquaintance.  What  will  you 
say  when  you  once  become  fully  self-possessed?  "  She 
lifted  her  high  arched  eyebrows  and  looked  at  him  with 
those  blue  eyes  full  of  tantalising  fun  until  he  had  to  look 


22O  The  Leopard's  Spots 

down  at  the  floor  to  keep  from  saying  more  than  he  dared. 
When  he  looked  up  again  he  changed  the  subject. 

"  Miss  Sallie,  I  feel  like  I've  known  you  ever  since  I 
was  born."  She  blushed  and  made  no  reply. 

Dinner  was  announced,  and  Gaston  was  amazed  to  see 
Allan  McLeod  enter  chattering  familiarly  with  the  Gen- 
eral. He  seemed  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  the 
family  and  his  eye  lingered  fondly  on  Sallie's  face  in  a 
way  that  somehow  Gaston  resented  as  an  impertinence. 

"  I  didn't  even  know  you  were  acquainted  with  the  Hon. 
Allan  McLeod,  Miss  Sallie/'  said  Gaston  as  they  entered 
the  parlour  alone. 

"  Yes,  he  was  a  sort  of  ward  of  Papa's  when  he  was 
a  boy.  Papa  hates  his  politics,  but  he  has  always  been 
in  and  out  almost  like  one  of  the  family  since  I  can 
remember.  I  think  he's  a  fascinating  man,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  do,  but  I  don't  like  him." 

"  Well,  he's  a  great  friend  of  mine,  you  mustn't  quar- 
rel." 

Gaston  went  to  the  hotel  with  his  brain  in  a  whirl 
wondering  just  what  she  meant.  It  was  nearly  twelve 
o'clock  before  he  left  the  General's  house.  How  he  had 
passed  these  eleven  hours  he  could  not  imagine.  They 
seemed  like  eleven  minutes  in  one  way.  In  another  he 
seemed  to  have  lived  a  lifetime  that  day. 

"  By  George,  she's  an  angel !  "  he  kept  saying  over  and 
over  to  himself  as  he  climbed  to  his  room  forgetting  the 
elevator. 


CHAPTER  VI 
BESIDE  BEAUTIFUL  WATERS 

WHEN  Gaston  tried  to  sleep,  he  found  it  im- 
possible. His  brain  was  on  fire,  every  nerve 
quivering  with  some  new  mysterious  power 
and  his  imagination  soaring  on  tireless  wings.  He  rolled 
and  tossed  an  hour,  then  got  up,  and  sat  by  his  open 
window  looking  out  over  the  city  sleeping  in  the  still 
white  moonlight.  He  looked  into  the  mirror  and 
grinned. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  me!"  he  exclaimed.  "I 
believe  I'm  going  crazy." 

He  sat  down  and  tried  to  work  the  thing  out  by  the 
formulas  of  cold  reason.  "  It's  perfectly  absurd  to  say 
I'm  in  love.  My  wild  romancing  about  a  passion  that 
will  grasp  all  life  in  its  torrent  sweep  is  only  a  boy's  day 
dream.  The  world  is  too  prosy  for  that  now." 

Yet  in  spite  of  this  argument  the  room  seemed  as 
bright  as  day,  and  the  moon  was  only  a  pale  sister  light 
to  the  radiance  from  the  face  of  the  girl  he  had  seen 
that  day.  Her  face  seemed  to  him  smiling  close  into 
his  now.  The  light  of  her  eyes  was  tender  and  soothing 
like  the  far  away  memory  of  his  mother's  voice. 

"  It's  a  passing  fancy,"  he  said  at  last,  after  he  had  sat 
an  hour  dreaming  and  dreaming  of  scenes  he  dared  not 
frame  in  words  even  alone.  He  stood  by  the  window 
again. 

"What  a  beautiful  old  world  this  is  after  all!"  he 
thought  as  he  gazed  out  on  the  tops  of  the  oaks  whose 

221 


222  The  Leopard's  Spots 

young  leaves  were  softly  sighing  at  the  touch  of  the 
night  winds.  Turning  his  eye  downward  to  the  street 
he  saw  the  men  loading  the  morning  papers  into  the 
wagons  for  the  early  mail. 

"  I  wonder  what  sort  of  report  of  my  speech  they  put 
in  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  Unable  to  sleep  he  hastily  dressed, 
went  down  and  bought  a  paper. 

On  the  front  page  was  a  flattering  portrait,  two  columns 
in  width,  with  a  report  of  his  speech  filling  the  entire 
page,  and  an  editorial  review  of  a  column  and  a  half.  He 
was  hailed  as  the  coming  man  of  the  state  in  this  editorial, 
which  contained  the  most  extravagant  praise.  He 
knew  it  was  the  best  thing  he  had  ever  done,  and  he  felt 
for  the  minute  proud  of  himself  and  his  achievement. 
This  contemplation  of  his  own  greatness  quieted  his 
nerves  and  he  fell  asleep.  He  was  awakened  by  the  first 
rolling  of  carts  on  the  pavements  at  dawn.  He  knew  he 
had  not  slept  more  than  two  hours  but  he  was  as  wide 
awake  as  though  he  had  slept  soundly  all  night. 

"  I  must  be  threatened  with  that  spell  of  fever  Auntie 
has  been  worrying  about  since  I  was  a  boy !  "  he  laughed 
as  he  slowly  dressed. 

"  It's  now  six  o'clock,  and  my  train  don't  leave  till 
nine,"  he  mused.  "  But  am  I  going  on  that  train,  that's 
the  question  ?  " 

The  fact  was,  now  he  came  to  think  of  it,  there  was 
no  need  of  hurrying  home.  He  would  stay  a  while 
and  look  this  mystery  in  the  face  until  he  was  dis- 
illusioned. Besides  he  wanted  to  find  out  what  McLeod's 
visit  meant.  He  had  a  vague  feeling  of  uneasiness  when 
he  recalled  the  way  McLeod  had  assumed  about  the  Gen- 
eral's house.  He  had  told  Sallie  he  must  hurry  home 
on  the  morning's  train  for  no  earthly  reason  than  that  he 
had  intended  to  do  so  when  he  came. 

So  after  breakfast  he  wrote  her  a  little  note. 


Beside  Beautiful  Waters  223 

"  MY  DEAR  Miss  WORTH, 

.  My  train  left  me.  Will  you  have  compassion  on  a 
Stranger  in  a  strange  city  and  let  me  call  to  see  you 
again  to-day?  CHARLES  GASTON." 

He  waited  impatiently  until  he  heard  his  train  leave, 
and  then  told  the  boy  to  make  tracks  for  the  General's 
house. 

A  peal  of  laughter  rang  through  the  hall  when  Sallie's 
dancing  eyes  read  that  note. 

"Oh!  the  storyteller!"  sh3  cried. 

And  this  was  the  answer  she  sent  back. 

"  Certainly.  Come  out  at  once.  I'll  take  you  buggy 
driving  all  by  myself  over  a  lovely  road  up  the  river.  I 
do  this  in  acknowedgment  of  the  gracious  flattery  you 
pay  me  in  the  story  you  told  about  the  train.  Of  course 
I  know  you  waited  till  the  train  left  before  you  sent  the 
note .  SALLIE  WORTH/' 

"  Now  I  wonder  if  that  young  rascal  of  a  boy  told  her 
I  wrote  that  note  an  hour  ago  ?  I'll  v/ring  his  neck  if  he 
did.  Come  here  boy !  " 

The  negro  came  up  grinning  in  hopes  of  another 
quarter. 

"  Did  you  tell  that  young  lady  anything  about  when  I 
wrote  that  note  ?  " 

"  Na-sah !  Nebber  tole  her  nuffin.  She  des  laugh  and 
laugh  fit  ter  kill  herse'f  des  quick  es  she  reads  de  note." 

Gaston  smiled  and  threw  him  another  tip. 

"  Yassah,  she's  a  knowin'  lady,  sho's  you  bawn,  I  been 
dar  lots  er  times  fo'  dis !  " 

Gaston  was  tempted  to  ask  him  for  whom  he  carried 
those  former  messages.  He  walked  with  bounding  steps, 
his  being  tingling  to  his  finger  tips  with  the  joy  of  living. 
TVie  avenue  leading  the  full  length  of  the  city  toward 


224  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  General's  house  was  two  miles  long  before  it  reached 
the  woods  at  the  gate.  It  seemed  only  a  step  this  morning. 
,  As  he  passed  through  the  cool  shade  of  the  woods  a 
squirrel  was  playing  hide  and  seek  with  his  mate  on  the 
old  crooked  fence  beside  the  road.  His  little  nimble  mis- 
tress flew  up  a  great  tree  to  its  topmost  bough  and  chat- 
tered and  laughed  at  her  lover  as  he  scrambled  swiftly 
after  her.  She  waited  until  he  was  just  reaching  out  his 
arm  to  grasp  her,  and  then  with  another  scream  of  laugh- 
ter leaped  straight  out  into  the  air  to  another  tree  top, 
and  then  another  and  another  until  lost  in  the  heart  of 
the  forest. 

"  I  wonder  if  that's  going  to  be  my  fate ! "  he  mused 
as  he  turned  into  the  gateway. 

Again  the  majestic  beauty  of  that  gleaming  mass  of 
ivory  on  the  hill  with  its  green  background  swept  his 
soul  with  its  power.  It  seemed  a  different  shade  of 
colour  now  that  he  saw  it  with  the  sun  at  another  angle. 
Its  surface  seemed  to  have  the  soft  sheen  of  creamy 
velvet. 

He  paused  and  sighed,  "  Why  should  I  be  so  poor !  If 
I  only  had  a  house  like  that  I'd  turn  that  big  banquet 
hall  on  the  left  wing  into  a  library,  and  I'd  ask  no  higher 
heaven .  " 

And  he  fell  to  wondering  if  it  would  really  be  worth 
the  having  without  the  face  and  voice  of  the  girl  who 
was  there  within  waiting  for  him.  No,  he  was  sure  of 
it  this  morning  for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  The  cer- 
tainty of  this  conviction  brought  to  his  heart  a  feeling  of 
loneliness  and  despair.  When  he  thought  of  his  abject 
poverty  and  the  long  years  of  struggle  before  him,  and 
of  that  beautiful  accomplished  young  woman  rich,  petted, 
the  belle  of  the  city,  the  gulf  that  separated  their  lives 
seemed  impassable. 

"I'm  playing  with  fire!"  he  said  to  himself  as  he 


Beside  Beautiful  Waters  225 

looked  up  at  the  graceful  pillars  with  their  carved  and 
fluted  capitals.  "  Well,  let  it  be  so.  Let  me  live  life  to 
its  deepest  depths  and  its  highest  reach.  It  is  better  to 
love  and  lose  than  never  to  love  at  all."  And  he  walked 
into  the  cool  hall  with  the  ease  and  assurance  of  its 
master. 

Sallie  greeted  him  with  the  kindliest  grace. 

"  I'm  so  glad  you  stayed  to-day,  Mr.  Gaston.  I  should 
have  been  really  chagrined  to  think  I  made  so  slight  an 
impression  on  you  that  you  could  walk  deliberately  away 
on  a  pre-arranged  schedule.  I  am  not<  used  to  being 
treated  so  lightly." 

He  tried  to  make  some  answer  to  this  half  serious 
banter,  but  was  so  absorbed  in  just  looking  at  her  he  said 
nothing. 

She  was  dressed  in  a  morning  gown  of  a  soft  red  ma- 
terial, trimmed  with  old  cream  lace.  The  material  of 
a  woman's  dress  had  never  interested  him  before.  He 
knew  calico  from  silk,  but  beyond  that  he  never  ventured 
an  opinion.  To  colour  alone  he  was  responsive.  This 
combination  of  red  and  creamy  white,  with  the  bodice 
.cut  low  showing  the  lines  of  her  beautiful  white  shoul- 
ders and  the  great  mass  of  dark  hair  rising  in  graceful 
curves  from  her  full  round  neck  heightened  her  beauty 
to  an  extraordinary  degree.  As  she  walked,  the  cling- 
ing folds  of  her  dress,  outlining  her  queenly  figure,  seemed 
part  of  her  very  being  and  to  be  imbued  with  her  soul. 
He  was  dazzled  with  the  new  revelation  of  her  power 
.over  him. 

"Have  you  no  apology,  sir,  for  pretending  that  you 
were  going  home  this  morning?  "  she  said  seating  herself 
by  his  side. 

"  You  didn't  ask  me  to  stay  with  fervour." 

"  It  ought  not  to  have  been  necessary." 

"  Didn't  you  really  know  I  was  not  going?  " 


226  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Yes." 

"  I'm  glad." 

"  Yes,  you  see  I'm  twenty-one  years  old,  and  I've  seen 
such  things  happen  before ! "  she  purred  this  slowly  and 
burst  into  laughter. 

"  Now,  Miss  Sallie,  that's  cruel  to  throw  me  down 
in  a  heap  of  dead  dogs  I  don't  even  know." 

"  Don't  you  like  dogs  ?  " 

"  Four  legged  ones,  yes.    But  I  like  my  friends  alive." 

"  Oh !  It  didn't  kill  any  of  them.  They  are  all  strong 
and  hearty.  But  if  you're  so  domestic  in  your  tastes  why 
haven't  you  settled  in  life?" 

"  Been  waiting  to  find  the  woman  of  my  dreams." 

"  And  you  haven't  found  her  ?  " 

"  Not  up  to  yesterday." 

"  Oh  I     I  forgot,"  she  said  archly,  "  you're  so  timid." 

"  Honestly,  I  was." 

"  Up  to  yesterday !  "  she  murmured.  "  Well,  tell  me 
what  your  dreams  demanded?  What  kind  of  a  creature 
must  she  be?  " 

"  I  have  forgotten." 

"  What !    Forgotten  the  dreams  of  your  ideal  woman  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Since  when?" 

"  Yesterday." 

"Thanks.  We  are  getting  on  beautifully,  aren't  we? 
You  will  get  over  your  timidity  in  time,  I'm  sure." 

He  smiled,  looked  down  at  the  pattern  of  the  carpet 
and  did  not  speak  for  some  minutes.  His  soul  was 
thrilled  and  satisfied  in  her  presence.  As  he  lifted  his 
eyes  from  the  floor  they  rested  on  the  piano. 

"  Will  you  play  for  me,  Miss  Sallie  ?  Auntie  says  you 
play  delightfully." 

"  Auntie  ?    Who  is  Auntie  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Durham,  my  foster  mother,  of  course.    Excuse 


Beside  Beautiful  Waters  127 

my  unconscious  assumption  of  your  familiarity  with  all 
my  antecedents.  I  can't  get  over  the  impression  that  I 
have  known  you  all  my  life/' 

"And  that  reminds  me  that  I  started  to  say  some- 
thing to  you  yesterday  that  was  perfectly  ridiculous,  but 
caught  myself  in  time." 

41 1  wish  you  had  said  it." 

"  Mrs.  Durham  is  a  great  flatterer  of  those  she  loves. 
She  thinks  I  can  play.  But  I'm  the  veriest  amateur." 

"  Let  me  be  the  judge." 

She  was  looking  over  her  music,  and  he  had  opened 
the  piano. 

"  I'll  play  for  you  with  pleasure.  Sit  there  in  that  big 
arm  chair.  I'm  sorry  I  tired  you  so  early  in  the  day 
with  my  chatter." 

And  before  he  could  protest  her  fingers  were  touching 
the  piano  with  the  ease  of  the  t>orn  musician. 

He  sat  enraptured  as  he  watched  the  sinuous  grace 
with  which  her  fingers  touched  the  ivory  keys  and  heard 
their  answering  cry  which  seemed  the  breath  of  her  own 
soul  in  echo. 

She  had  an  easy  apparently  careless  touch.  To  old 
familiar  music  she  gave  a  charm  that  was  new,  adding 
something  indefinable  to  the  musician's  thought  that  gave 
luminous  power  to  its  interpretation.  He  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  the  technique  of  music,  but  now  he  knew  that  she 
was  improvising.  The  piano  was  the  voice  of  her  own 
beautiful  soul,  and  it  was  pulsing  with  a  tenderness  that 
melted  him  to  tears. 

Suddenly  the  music  ceased,  and  she  turned  her  face 
full  on  his  before  he  could  brush  away  a  big  tear  that 
rolled  down.  She  flushed,  closed  the  piano,  and  quietly 
resumed  her  place  by  his  side. 

"  And,  now,  you  haven't  told  me  how  well  I  played. 
You're  the  first  young  man  so  careless." 


228  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I  have  told  you." 

"How?" 

"  The  way  you  told  me  yesterday  that  you  understood 
me — with  a  tear." 

"  I  appreciate  it  more  than  words." 

"  So  did  I,"  he  slowly  said.  Again  there  was  a  long 
silence. 

"  But  we  do  love  to  hear  folks  say  in  words  what  they 
think  sometimes.  I  confess  I  was  immensely  elated  over 
the  fine  things  the  paper  said  about  me  this  morning." 

"  It's  a  wonder  too.  Our  editor  is  a  cranky  sort  of 
fellow.  I  was  afraid  he'd  say  a  lot  of  mean  things  about 
you.  But  Papa  says  you  swallowed  him  whole." 

"  Did  you  wish  him  to  say  kind  things  about  me  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  and  then  the  look  of  mischief 
came  back  in  her  eye.  "  Were  you  not  our  guest  ?  I 
should  have  felt  like  whipping  him  if  he  hadn't  said  nice 
things." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  about  your  playing. 
You  gave  those  strings  a  soul  for  the  first  time  for  me, 
beautiful,  living,  throbbing,  that  spoke  a  message  of  its 
own.  The  piece  you  improvised,  I  shall  never  forget. 
Such  music  seems  to  me  the  grasping  of  the  infinite  by 
hands  that  touch  the  impalpable  and  bringing  it  for  a 
moment  within  the  sphere  of  matter  that  a  kindred  soul 
may  hear  and  see  and  feel." 

She  started  to  make  some  reply  but  her  lips  quivered 
and  she  looked  away  across  the  valley  at  the  river  and 
made  no  answer. 

At  dinner  the  General  was  in  his  most  genial  mood, 
laughing  and  joking,  and  drawing  out  Gaston  on  politics 
and  cotton-mill  developments,  and  trying  with  all  his 
might  to  tease  his  daughter. 

As  he  took  his  departure  for  the  mills,  he  said,  "  Young 
man,  I'd  ask  you  to  go  with  me  and  look  at  the  machinery, 


Beside  Beautiful  Waters  229 

but  I  see  it's  no  use.  I  heard  her  twisting  you  around 
her  fingers  with  that  piano  a  while  ago .  " 

"  Papa,  don't  be  so  silly ! '  cried  Sallie,  slipping  her 
arm  around  him,  putting  one  hand  over  his  mouth,  and 
kissing  him. 

"  Go  on  to  your  work.    I'll  entertain  Mr.  Gaston." 

"  Indeed  you  will !  "  he  shouted,  throwing  her  another 
kiss  as  he  left. 

"  He's  the  dearest  father  any  girl  ever  had  in  this 
world.  I  know  you  loved  yours,  didn't  you,  Mr.  Gas- 
ton?" 

"  Mine  was  killed  in  battle,  Miss  Sallie.  I  never  knew 
him.  But  I  had  the  most  beautiful  mother  that  ever 
lived.  I  lost  her  when  a  mere  boy.  And  the  world  has 
never  been  the  same  since.  I  envy  you." 

"  I  forgot.  Forgive  me,"  she  softly  said,  looking  up 
into  his  face  with  tenderness. 

"  If  I  had  only  had  a  sister !  How  my  heart  used  to 
ache  when  I'd  see  other  boys  playing  with  a  sister !  My 
poor  little  starved  soul  was  so  hungry,  I  would  go  off 
in  the  woods  sometimes  and  cry  for  hours." 

"  I  wish  I  had  known  you  when  you  were  a  little  boy, 
— I  can't  conceive  of  a  dignified  orator  swaying  thousands 
running  around  as  a  barefooted  boy.  But  you  must  have 
gone  barefooted  for  I  think  Papa  said  so,  didn't  he?" 

"  Indeed  I  did,  and  sometimes  I  am  afraid  for  the  very 
good  reason  I  didn't  have  any  shoes." 

"  Well,  you  wouldn't  have  worn  them  if  you  had.  I 
always  wanted  to  be  a  boy  just  to  go  barefooted.  I  think 
girls  lose  so  much  of  a  child's  life  by  having  to  wear 
shoes." 

"  But  you  never  knew  what  it  meant  to  want  shoes  and 
not  be  able  to  have  them,"  he  said,  looking  at  the  shining 
tips  of  her  slippers  peeping  from  the  edge  of  her 
dress. 


230  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  No,  but  I  never  thought  these  things  made  a  great 
difference  in  our  lives  after  all.  I  believe  it  is  what  we 
are,  not  what  we  have,  that  gives  life  meaning." 

He  looked  at  her  intently. 

"  I  must  get  ready  now  for  our  drive.  The  horse  will 
be  here  in  ten  minutes.  Enjoy  the  view  on  the  porch 
until  I  am  ready/'  and  she  bounded  up  the  stairs  to  her 
room. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  was  by  his  side  again  dressed  in 
spotless  white  as  he  had  seen  her  first.  She  lifted  the 
lines  over  the  sleek  horse,  and  he  dashed  swiftly  down 
the  drive. 

Oh !  the  peace  and  bliss  of  that  drive  along  the  lonely 
river  road  by  its  cool  green  banks ! 

How  he  poured  out  to  her  his  inmost  thoughts — things 
he  had  not  dared  to  whisper  alone  with  himself  and  God ! 
And  then  he  wondered  why  he  had  thus  laid  bare  his  secret 
dreams  to  this  girl  he  had  known  but  twenty-four  hours. 
Nonsense,  down  in  his  soul  he  knew  he  had  known  her 
forever  *  Before  the  world  was  made,  ages  and  ages  ago 
in  eternity  he  had  known  her.  He  turned  to  her  now 
drawn  by  a  resistless  force  as  a  plant  turns  toward  the 
sunlight  for  its  life.  How  he  could  talk  that  day!  -All 
he  had  ever  known  of  art  and  beauty,  all  he  knew  of  the 
deep  truths  of  life,  were  on  his  lips  leaping  forth  in 
simple  but  impassioned  words.  For  hours  he  lay  at  her 
feet  where  she  sat  on  a  rock,  high  up  on  the  cliffs  over- 
looking the  river  and  poured  out  his  heart  like  a  child. 
And  she  listened  with  a  dreamy  look  as  though  to  the 
music  of  a  master. 

At  last  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  looked  at  her  watch. 

"  Oh !  Mama  will  be  furious.  It  will  be  after  sundown 
before  we  can  get  home.  We  must  hurry." 

"  I'll  make  it  all  right  with  your  Mama,"  he  replied 
as  though  he  were  skilled  in  meeting  such  emergencies. 


Beside  Beautiful  Waters  231 

"  Don't  you  speak  to  her.  It'll  be  all  I  can  do  to  man- 
age her." 

The  twilight  was  gathering  when  they  reached  the 
house,  and  an  angry  anxious  mother  was  waiting  high  up 
on  the  stoop. 

"  Watch  me  smooth  every  wrinkle  out  of  her  brow 
now !  "  she  whispered  as  she  flew  up  the  steps. 
1  Before  her  mother  could  say  a  word,  a  white  hand  was 
on  her  mouth  and  pretty  lips  were  whispering  something 
in  her  ears  she  had  never  heard  before.  There  was  the 
sound  of  a  kiss  and  he  heard  Sallie  say,  "  Not  a  word !  " 

And  the  mother  greeted  him  with  a  smile  and  a  curi- 
ously searching  look.  She  chattted  pleasantly  until  her 
.daughter  returned  from  her  room,  and  then  left  her. 
Again  it  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  before  he  reached  the 
hotel. 

;    The  next  morning  Bob  St.  Clare  broke  in  on  him  be- 
fore he  was  out  of  bed. 

"  Look  here,  you  sly  dog,  what  are  you  doing  slipping 
and  sliding  around  here  yet  ?  " 

"  Bob,  you're  the  man  I  want  to  see.  Tell  me  all  you 
know  about  the  Worths." 

"  The  Worths  ?    Which  one  ?  " 

"  There's  only  one  so  far  as  I  can  see." 

"Well,  you  may  find  out  there's  two  if  you  should 
jhappen  to  collide  with  the  General." 

"  Does  he  cut  up  at  times  ?  " 

"  He's  all  right  till  he  turns  on  you,  and  then  you  want 
to  find  shelter." 

"  Did  you  ever  run  up  against  him  ?  " 

"  No,  I  never  got  that  far.  He's  hail-fellow-well-met 
(with  every  youngster  in  town.  He  will  laugh  and  joke 
.about  his  daughter  until  he  thinks  she  is  in  earnest  about 
a  fellow,  and  then  he  swoops  down  on  him  like  a  hawk. 
•I'll  bet  a  hundred  dollars  he's  playing  you  now  for  all 


232  The  Leopard's  Spots 

you're  worth  against  the  latest  favourite.  But  Miss 
Sallie — she's  an  angel !  " 

"  Look  here,  Bob,  you're  not  in  love  with  her  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  convalescing  at  present  my  boy.  Every 
boy  in  the  town  has  been  there,  but  I  don't  believe  she 
cares  a  snap  for  a  man  of  us  unless  it's  that  big  red- 
headed McLeod.  I  can't  make  his  position  out  exactly." 

"  Did  she  jolt  you  hard  when  you  hit  the  ground?  " 

"  Easiest  thing  you  ever  saw.  She  has  a  supreme 
genius  for  painless  cruelty.  When  the  time  comes  she 
can  pull  your  eye-tooth  out  in  such  a  delicate  friendly 
way  you  will  have  to  swear  she  hasn't  hurt  you." 

"You  still  go?" 

"  Lord  yes,  we  all  do, — sort  of  a  congress  of  the  lost 
meet  down  there.  They  all  hang  on.  She  keeps  the 
friendship  of  every  poor  devil  she  kills." 

"You  know  you  make  the  cold  chills  run  down  my 
back  when  you  talk  like  that." 

"  Are  you  in  love  with  her,  Gaston  ?  " 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't  know." 

"  Then  what  in  the  thunder  have  you  been  doing  out 
there  two  days  and  nights,  if  you  haven't  made  love  to 
her?" 

"  Just  basking  in  the  sun." 

"  Well,  you  are  a  fool.  Eleven  hours  the  first  day, 
and  fifteen  hours  yesterday.  Confound  you,  don't  you 
know  a  dozen  fellows  in  town  are  cursing  you  for  all 
they  can  think  of?" 

"What  about?" 

"  Why  for  trying  to  hog  the  whole  time,  day  and  night. 
;She  won't  let  a  mother's  son  of  them  come  near  till  you're 
gone." 

"Well,  that's  immense!"  exclaimed  Gaston  slapping 
}iis  friend  on  the  back. 


Beside  Beautiful  Waters  233 

"  Don't  be  too  sure.  She's  just  sizing  you  up.  She's 
done  the  same  thing  a  dozen  times  before." 

"  I  don't  believe  it." 

And  he  didn't  go  home  until  the  end  of  the  week  when 
the  last  cent  of  his  money  was  gone. 


CHAPTER   VII 
DREAMS  AND  FEARS 

HE  was  on  the  train  at  last  homeward  bound.  Gaz- 
ing out  of  the  window  of  the  car  he  was  trying 
to  find  where  he  stood.  He  must  be  in  love. 
He  faced  the  remarkable  fact  that  he  had  spent  a  whole 
week  in  Independence  at  an  expensive  hotel,  and  squan- 
dered every  cent  of  the  small  fee  he  had  received  for  his 
address  in  what  would  be  otherwise  a  perfectly  senseless 
manner. 

Yet  he  felt  rich.  He  was  sure  he  had  never  spent 
money  so  wisely  and  economically  in  his  life.  Beyond 
the  shadow  of  a  doubt  he  was  in  love, — desperately  and 
hopelessly  committed  to  this  one  girl  for  life.  He  said 
it  in  his  heart  with  a  shout  of  triumph.  Life  was  not  a 
sterile  desert  of  brute  work.  It  was  true.  Love  the 
magician  of  the  ages,  lived  in  this  world  of  lost  faiths 
and  dead  religions. 

Now  that  he  was  leaving  he  felt  a  tingling  impulse  to 
leap  off  the  train,  cut  across  the  fields  and  run  back  to 
her — and  he  laughed  aloud,  just  as  the  train  came  to  a 
sudden  stop,  and  everybody  looked  at  him  and  smiled. 

A  drummer  looked  up  from  a  novel  he  was  reading  and 
said, 

"  It  is  a  fine  day,  partner,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Never  saw  a  finer,"  answered  Gaston  with  another 
laugh. 

He  dwelt  long  and  greedily  on  the  consciousness  of 

434 


Dreams  and  Fears  235 

this  new  vitalising  secret  he  felt  for  the  first  time  throb- 
bing in  his  soul.  He  bathed  his  heart  in  its  warmth  until 
he  could  feel  the  red  blood  rush  to  the  ends  of  his  fingers 
.with  its  new  fever.  He  breathed  its  perfume  until  every 
nerve  quivered.  "  I  have  never  lived  before .  No  mat- 
ter now  if  I  die,  I  have  lived !  "  he  said  slowly  and 
reverently. 

He  wondered  long  and  wistfully  what  was  in  her  heart 
while  this  wild  tumult  was  going  on  in  him.  He  won- 
dered if  it  were  possible  she  loved  him.  It  seemed  too 
good  to  be  true.  He  was  afraid  to  believe  it.  And  yet 
his  whole  soul  with  every  power  of  his  being  cried  out 
that  she  did.  He  could  not  have  been  mistaken  in  the 
message  he  read  in  the  liquid  depths  of  her  eyes,  and  the 
delicate  tenderness  of  her  voice.  Words  may  say  noth- 
ing, but  these  signs  are  the  language  of  the  universal. 
Still,  others  had  been  equally  sure,  and  been  deceived. 
Might  not  he  too  make  the  fatal  mistake?  It  was  pos- 
sible. And  there  was  the  pain. 

She  had  not  uttered  a  single  word  in  all  the  hours  they 
spent  together  that  might  not  be  interpreted  in  a  conven- 
tional meaningless  way. 

Yet  he  had  given  to  every  one  of  these  words  a  soul 
meaning  that  spoke  directly  to  his  inner  being  and  not 
his  ear. 

He  had  never  spoken  a  word  of  shallow  love-making 
to  a  woman  in  his  life.  To  him  love  was  too  holy  a 
mystery.  It  would  have  been  the  blasphemy  of  the  Holy 
Ghost — a  sin  that  would  not  be  forgiven  in  this  world 
or  the  world  to  come.  His  college  mates  had  called  him 
a  crank  on  this  subject.  But  he  shut  his  lips  in  a  way 
that  always  closed  the  argument,  and  they  let  him  alone 
with  his  Idol. 

"  I  am  afraid  yet  to  put  it  to  the  test !  "  he  said  at  last. 
"  I  must  have  time  to  reveal  my  best  self  to  her.  I  must 


236  The  Leopard's  Spots 

see  her  again,  live  close  to  her  day  by  day,  and  bring  to 
bear  on  her  every  power  of  body  and  soul  I  possess." 

Mrs.  Durham  met  him  with  dancing  eyes.  "  Oh,  I've 
heard  from  you,  sir !  " 

"  Kiss  me  Auntie,  and  be  kind .  I'm  in  the  last  stages 
of  delirium !  " 

He  took  her  hands  both  in  his  and  looked  at  her  long. 
"  How  good  you've  been  to  me,  Auntie,  in  all  the  past. 
You  never  looked  so  beautiful  as  to-day.  I  want  to  thank 
you  for  every  word  you've  said  to  Miss  Sallie  for  me. 
It  may  have  helped  just  a  little  anyway. " 

"  Well  you  are  in  the  last  stages ! "  she  exclaimed 
gleefully. 

"  And  you  are  glad  of  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  I  am,  it  will  make  a  man  of  you." 

"  But  suppose  I  lose  ?  " 

She  was  silent  a  moment  and  then  slipped  her  arm 
gently  about  him,  drew  down  his  ear  and  whispered, 

"  You  shall  not  lose — I've  set  my  heart  on  it." 

He  pressed  her  hands  and  said,  "  How  like  my  sweet 
mother's  voice  was  that !  " 

And  then  they  fell  to  discussing  plans  for  giving  Miss 
Sallie  and  her  friend  a  jolly  time  at  the  Springs. 

"  But  Auntie,  these  plans  don't  seem  to  me  exactly 
what  I'd  like.  You  see  I  want  to  be  the  whole  thing. 
It  may  be  hopelessly  selfish,  but  I  can't  help  it." 

"  Well  that  isn't  best." 

"  Say  Auntie,  what  do  I  look  like  anyway  ?  How 
would  you  describe  my  make  up?  Let's  get  at  the  weak 
spots  and  splint  them  up  a  little.  You  know,  I  never 
seriously  cared  a  rap  before  about  my  looks." 

"  Well  " — she  answered,  slowly  regarding  him,  "  I'll 
be  perfectly  frank  with  you. 

"  You  are  tall — at  least  two  inches  taller  than  the  aver- 
age man,  and  your  muscular  body  gives  one  the  impres- 


Dreams  and  Fears  237 

sion  of  power.  You  have  black  hair,  dark-brown  eyes 
that  look  out  from  your  shaggy  straight  eye-brows  with 
a  piercing  light." 

"  You  think  the  brows  too  shaggy  ?  " 

"  No,  I  like  them.  They  suggest  reserve  power  and 
brain  capacity." 

"  Good,  I  never  thought  of  that." 

"  You  have  a  face  that  is  massive,  almost  leonine,  and 
a  square-cut  determined  mouth,  that  always  clean  shaven, 
sometimes  looks  too  grim." 

"  I'll  remember  that  and  look  pleasant." 

"  You  have  a  big  hand  and  sometimes  shake  hands  too 
strongly.  You  have  a  handsome  aristocratic  foot  when 
}4ou  wear  decent  shoes.  You  often  walk  hump- 
shouldered,  and  sit  so  too." 

"  I'll  brace  up." 

"  You  have  deep  vertical  wrinkles  between  your  eyes 
just  where  your  straight  eyebrows  meet." 

"  Heavens,  I  didn't  know  I  had  wrinkles ! " 

"  Yes,  but  they  mean  habits  of  thought  like  your 
stooping  shoulders,  I  don't  object  to  such  wrinkles  in  a 
man's  face.  But  the  best  feature  of  all  your  stock  is 
your  eye.  Your  big  brown  eyes  are  about  the  only  per- 
fect thing  about  you.  There's  infinite  tenderness  in  them. 
Now  and  then  they  gleam  with  a  hidden  fire  that  tells 
of  enthusiasm,  thought,  will,  character,  and  dauntless 
courage." 

She  looked  and  they  were  misty  with  tears. 

He  pressed  her  hand.  "  Auntie,  I  didn't  know  how 
much  you've  loved  me  all  these  years.  How  love  opens 
one's  eyes ! " 

"  You  have  a  high  temper,  plenty  of  pride,  and  are 
given  to  looking  on  the  dark  side  of  things  too  quickly. 
You  lack  poise  of  character  and  sureness  of  touch  yet, 
but  with  it  all,  yours  is  a  masterful  nature." 


238  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  One  you  think  that  a  perfect  woman  could  love?  " 

"  There  are  no  perfect  women ;  but  I'll  match  you 
against  any  woman  I  know.  So  there,  now,  take  cour- 
age/' 

"  I  will,"  he  gravely  answered. 

He  hurried  to  his  office  and  read  his  mail.  There 
were  two  letters  retaining  his  services  for  jury  work  in 
important  cases.  His  heart  leaped  at  the  sign  of  coming 
success.  What  a  new  meaning  love  gave  to  every  event 
in  life. 

He  turned  to  his  books,  and  began  immediately  a 
searching  study  of  every  question  involved  in  these 
cases.  He  would  carry  the  court  by  storm.  He  would 
lead  the  jury  spellbound  by  his  eloquence  to  a  certain 
verdict.  How  clear  his  brain!  He  felt  he  was  alive  to 
his  finger-tips,  and  argus-eyed. 

He  worked  hour  after  hour  without  the  slightest  fa- 
tigue or  knowledge  of  the  flight  of  time.  He  looked  up 
at  last  with  surprise  to  find  it  was  night,  and  was  startled 
by  the  voice  of  the  Preacher  calling  him  from  below. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  Mrs.  Durham  sent  me 
to  find  you.  She  was  afraid  you  had  gone  up  on  the  roof 
and  walked  off." 

"  I'll  be  ready  in  a  minute,  Doctor,"  he  called  from 
the  window. 

"  I  haven't  known  you  to  take  to  law  so  violently  in 
four  years.  What's  up  ?  Got  a  capital  case  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  have.  It's  a  matter  of  life  and  death 
to  one  poor  soul  anyhow." 

"  Now,  honour  bright  haven't  you  been  working  all 
this  afternoon  on  a  love-letter  that  you've  just  finished 
and  addressed  to  Independence  ?  " 

"No  sir.  To  tell  you  the  fact,  I  didn't  dare  to  ask 
her  to  write  to  me.  I  knew  I  couldn't  control  a  pen." 

"  My  boy,  I  wish  you  success  with  all  my  heart.     It 


Dreams  and  Fears  239 

makes  me  young  again  to  look  into  your  face.  I've  had 
my  supper,  when  you've  finished  your  confab  with  your 
Auntie,  come  out  here  in  the  square  to  the  seat  under 
the  old  oak,  I  want  to  talk  to  you  on  some  important 
business." 

"  What  have  you  been  doing,"  asked  Mrs.  Durham. 

"  Building  a  home  for  her !  "  he  cried  in  a  whisper. 
He  went  behind  the  chair  where  his  foster  mother  sat 
pouring  his  tea,  bent  low  and  kissed  her  high  white  fore- 
head. "  My  own  Mother !  I'll  never  call  you  Auntie 
again!" 

Tears  sprang  to  her  eyes,  and  she  kissed  his  hand, 
tenderly  holding  it  to  her  lips. 

"  Ah !    Love  is  a  wonder  worker,  isn't  he  Charlie?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  can't  realise  the  joy  that  lifts  and  inspires 
me  when  I  think  that  I  am  one  of  the  elect.  It's  too  good 
to  be  true.  I  have  been  initiated  into  the  great  secret.  I 
have  tasted  the  water  of  Life.  I  shall  not  see  Death." 

She  looked  at  him  with  pride.  "  I  knew  you  would 
make  a  matchless  lover.  I  envy  Sallie  her  young  eyes 
and  ears ! " 

"  You  need  not  envy  her.    You  will  never  grow  old." 

"  So  much  the  worse  if  we  miss  the  dreams  that  fill 
the  souls  of  the  young,"  she  said  with  an  accent  of  sor- 
rowful pride. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  UNSOLVED  RIDDLE 

G ASTON  found  the  Preacher  quietly  smoking, 
seated  on  the  rustic  under  a  giant  oak  that  stood 
in  the  corner  of  the  square. 

Under  this  tree  the  speakers'  stand  had  always  been 
built  for  joint  debates  in  political  campaigns. 

Here,  when  a  boy  he  had  heard  the  great  debate  be- 
tween Zebulon  B.  Vance  and  Judge  Thomas  Settle  in 
the  fierce  campaign  which  followed  the  overthrow  of  Le- 
gree  when  the  Republican  party,  under  the  leadership 
of  Judge  Settle  made  its  desperate  effort  for  life.  Settle, 
who  was  a  man  of  masterful  personality,  eloquent,  and 
in  dead  earnest  in  his  appeal  for  a  new  South,  had  made 
a  speech  of  great  power  to  a  crowd  that  were  hostile  to 
every  idea  for  which  he  stood;  and  yet  he  dazzled  or 
stunned  them  into  sullen  silence. 

And  then  he  recalled  with  flashes  of  memory  vivid  as 
lightning,  the  miracle  that  had  followed.  He  could  see 
Vance  now  as  he  slowly  lifted  his  big  lion-like  head,  and 
calmly  looked  over  the  sea  of  faces  with  eagle  eyes 
that  could  flash  with  resistless  humour  or  blaze  with  the 
fury  of  elemental  passion.  He  reviewed  the  terrible 
past  in  which  he  had  played  the  tragic  role  o'f  their  war 
Governor,  and  tore  into, tatters  with  the  facts  of  his- 
tory the  logic  of  his  opponent.  And  then  he  opened 
his  batteries  of  wit  and  ridicule, — wit  that  cut  to  the 
heart's  red  blood,  and  yet  convulsed  the  hearer  with  its 
unexpected  turn,  Ridicule  that  withered  and  scorched 

240 


The  Unsolved  Riddle  241 

what  it  touched  into  ashes*  Five  thousand  people  now 
in  breathless  suspense  as  he  swung  them  into  heaven  on 
the  wings  of  deathless  words,  now  screaming  with 
laughter,  and  now  hushed  in  tears! 

The  scene  that  followed  this  triumph!  Two  stalwart 
mountain  men  snatched  him  from  the  rostrum  and  bore 
him  on  their  shoulders  through  the  shouting,  weeping 
crowd.  Women  pressed  close  and  kissed  his  hands,  and 
old  men  reached  forward  their  hands  to  touch  his  gar- 
ments. Ah!  if  he  could  inherit  the  power  of  this  king 
among  men !  To-night  as  Gaston  walked  under  that  tree 
with  his  heart  beating  with  the  ecstasy  of  a  new-found 
source  of  life,  he  felt  that  he  could  do,  and  that  he  would 
do,  what  the  master  had  done  before  him! 

"  Charlie,  I've  heard  some  startling  news  since  you 
left  home,  and  I  can't  sleep  nights  thinking  about  it." 

"  You've  heard  of  McLeod's  scheme." 

"Exactly.  And  it  means  the  ruin  of  this  state  and 
the  ruin  of  the  South  unless  it  can  be  defeated." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  do  it  ?  " 

"  It's  a  puzzle  but  it's  got  to  be  done.  Half  the  farmers 
in  the  strongholds  of  Democracy  are  crazy  over  their 
fool  Sub-Treasury  and  a  hundred  other  fakir  dreams. 
McLeod  has  promised  them  everything — Sub-Treasury, 
pumpkin  leaves  for  money, — anything  they  want  if  they 
will  join  forces  with  his  niggers  and  carry  the  state. 
You  are  the  man  to  begin  now  a  quiet  but  thorough  or- 
ganisation of  the  young  men,  and  oust  the  fools  from 
control  of  the  party. 

"  When  the  white  race  begin  to  hobnob  with  the  Negro 
and  seek  his  favour,  they  must  grant  him  absolute  equal- 
ity. That  means  ultimately  social  as  well  as  political 
equality.  You  can't  ask  a  man  to  vote  for  you  and  kick 
him  down  your  front  doorstep  and  tell  him  to  come 
around  the  back  way." 


242  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I  think  you  exaggerate  the  social  danger,  but  I  see 
the  political  end  of  it." 

"  I  don't  exaggerate  in  the  least.  I  am  looking  into 
the  future.  This  racial  instinct  is  the  ordinance  of  our 
life.  Lose  it  and  we  have  no  future.  One  drop  of  Negro 
blood  makes  a  negro.  It  kinks  the  hair,  flattens  the  nose, 
thickens  the  lip,  puts  out  the  light  of  intellect,  and  lights 
the  fires  of  brutal  passions.  The  beginning  of  Negro 
equality  as  a  vital  fact  is  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  this 
nation's  life.  There  is  enough  negro  blood  here  to  make 
mulatto  the  whole  Republic." 

"  Such  a  danger  seems  too  remote  for  serious  alarm 
to  me,"  replied  the  younger  man. 

"  Ah !  there's  the  tragedy,"  passionately  cried  the 
Preacher.  "  You  younger  men  are  growing  careless  and 
indifferent  to  this  terrible  problem.  It's  the  one  unsolved 
and  unsolvable  riddle  of  the  coming  century.  Can  you 
build,  in  a  Democracy,  a  nation  inside  a  nation  of  two 
hostile  races?  We  must  do  this  or  become  mulatto,  and 
that  is  death.  Every  inch  in  the  approach  of  these  races 
across  the  barriers  that  separate  them  is  a  movement 
toward  death.  You  cannot  seek  the  Negro  vote  without 
asking  him  to  your  home  sooner  or  later.  If  you  ask 
him  to  your  house,  he  will  break  bread  with  you  at  last. 
And  if  you  seat  him  at  your  table,  he  has  the  right  to 
ask  your  daughter's  hand  in  marriage." 

"  It  seems  to  me  a  far  cry  to  that .  But  I  see  the  politi- 
cal crisis.  What  is  your  plan  ?  " 

"  This, — organise  the  young  Democracy  in  every  town- 
ship in  the  state,  and  put  yourself  at  its  head,  control  the 
primaries  and  down  the  old  crowd.  They've  got  to  fol- 
low you.  Fight  the  campaign  with  the  desperation  of 
despair.  If  you  are  defeated,  God  have  mercy  on  us, 
but  you  will  be  ready  for  the  next  battle." 

"IH  do  it,"  said  Gaston  with  emphasis. 


The  Unsolved  Riddle  143 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  go  on  a  mission  to  Col.  Duke, 
the  President  of  the  National  Farmer's  Alliance.  He's 
a  good  Baptist.  He  means  well,  but  he's  crazy.  He 
dreams  of  the  Presidency  when  he  has  established  the 
Sub-Treasury  for  the  farmers .  He's  afraid  of  the  Negro, 
and  is  nervous  about  using  him.  He  knows  I  am  the 
most  influential  Baptist  preacher  in  the  state.  Tell  him 
I  say  you  will  win,  and  that  we  will  give  him  the  nomina- 
tion for  Governor,  and  put  him  in  line  for  the  Presi- 
dency." 

"  When  shall  I  go  to  see  him?  " 

"  Immediately.     Get  ready  to-night." 

The  next  week  McLeod  was  seated  in  his  office  at 
Hambright  receiving  reports  from  his  political  henchmen 
at  Raleigh. 

"  I  tell  you,  McLeod,  there's  a  hitch.  Something's 
dropped.  Duke's  as  coy  as  a  maid  of  sixteen.  He  says 
no  decision  can  be  made  now  until  he  submits  a  lot  of 
rot  to  all  the  lodges  of  the  Alliance  and  the  "  Referen- 
dum "  decides  these  points.  You'd  better  get  hold  of 
him  and  comb  the  kinks  out  of  him  quick." 

McLeod's  eyes  flashed  with  anger,  as  he  twisted  the 
points  of  his  red  moustache. 

"  It's  that  damned  Baptist  Preacher,"  he  said.  "  I'll 
get  even  with  him  yet  if  it's  the  only  thorough  job  I  do 
on  this  earth." 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  RHYTHM  OF  THE  DANCE 

BEFORE  boarding  the   train  he  was   to  take  for 
Raleigh,  he  lingered   with  Mrs.   Durham  talk- 
ing,  talking,  talking  about  the  wonder  of  his 
love.    As  he  arose  to  leave  he  said, 

"  Now,  Mother  dear  " 

"  Charlie,  you  just  say  that  so  beautifully  to  make  me 
your  slave." 

"  Of  course  I  do.  What  I  was  going  to  say  is,  I  can't 
write  to  her.  I  don't  dare.  You  can.  Tell  her  all  about 
me  won't  you?  Everything  that  you  think  will  interest 
and  please  her,  and  that  will  be  discreet.  Your  intuitions 
will  tell  you  how  far  to  go.  Tell  her  how  hard  I'm  work- 
ing and  what  an  important  mission  I've  undertaken,  and 
the  tremendous  things  that  hang  on  its  outcome.  And 
tell  her  how  impatiently  I'm  waiting  for  her  to  come  to 
the  Springs.  Be  sure  to  tell  her  that." 

"  All  right.  I'll  act  as  your  attorney  in  your  absence. 
But  hurry  back,  she  must  not  get  here  first.  I  want  you 
to  be  on  the  spot." 

"  I'll  be  here  if  I  have  to  give  up  politics  and  go  into 
business — and  you  know  how  I  "hate  that  word 
'  business/  " 

"  I'll  telegraph  you  if  she  comes." 

"  Don't  let  her  come  till  I  get  back.  Tell  her  the  hotel 
isn't  fit  to  receive  guests  yet — it  never  is  for  that  matter 
— but  anything  to  give  me  time  to  get  here." 

244 


The  Rhythm  of  the  Dance  245 

He  worked  with  indomitable  courage  for  two  weeks, 
visiting  the  principal  towns  in  the  state,  and  everywhere 
arousing  intense  enthusiasm.  There  was  something  con- 
tagious in  his  spirit.  The  young  fellows  were  charmed 
by  his  eager  intense  way  of  looking  at  things,  they  caught 
the  infection  and  he  made  hundreds  of  staunch  friends. 

"  You're  just  in  time !  "  cried  his  mother  greeting  him 
with  radiant  face  on  his  return.  "  She  is  coming  to- 
morrow. I've  a  beautiful  letter  from  her.  I  think  one 
of  the  sweetest  letters  a  girl  ever  wrote." 

"Let  me  see  it!" 

"  No." 

"  Why,  Mother,  I  thought  you  were  all  on  my  side ! " 

"  But  I'm  not.  I'm  a  woman,  and  you  can't  see  some 
things  she  says." 

"  Then  it's  something  awfully  nice  about  me." 

"  Maybe  the  opposite." 

"  Then  you'd  resent  it  for  me." 

"  I  love  her  too,  sir." 

"  Let  me  see  the  tip  end  of  it  where  she  signs  her 
name!" 

"  You  can  see  that  much,  there  " 

"  Doesn't  she  write  a  lovely  hand !  "  He  looked  long 
and  lovingly.  "  That  pretty  name ! — Sallie !  So  old- 
fashioned,  and  so  homelike.  It's  music,  isn't  it?" 

"  I  didn't  know  you  could  be  so  silly,  Charlie." 

"  It  is  funny,  isn't  it  ?  You  know  I  think  after  all,  we 
are  made  out  of  the  same  stuff,  saint  and  sinner,  philoso- 
pher and  fool.  The  differences  are  only  skin  deep." 

"  You  don't  think  she  is  made  out  of  ordinary 
clay?" 

"  Oh !  Lord,  no,  I  meant  the  men.  Every  woman  is 
something  divine  to  me.  I  think  of  God  as  a  woman,  not 
a  man — a  great  loving  Mother  of  all  Life.  If  I  ever  saw 
the  face  of  God  it  was  in  my  mother's  face." 


246  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Hush !  you  will  make  me  do  anything  you  wish." 

"  No,  no,  I  don't  want  to  see  that  letter  unless  you 
think  it  best/' 

"  Well,  you  will  not  see  any  more  of  it,  sir." 

When  Gaston  met  them  at  the  depot  with  a  carriage  to 
take  Sallie,  her  mother,  and  Helen  Lowell,  her  Boston 
schoolmate,  to  the  Springs,  the  first  passenger  to  alight 
was  Bob  St.  Clare. 

"  What  in  the  thunder  are  you  doing  here !  This  town 
is  quarantined  against  you !  "  said  Gaston. 

"  Hush !  "  said  Bob  in  a  stage  whisper.  "  She's  here. 
There's  her  valise." 

"  That's  why  you  can't  land.  Two's  company,  three's 
a  crowd.  I  like  you,  Bob.  But  I  won't  stand  for 
this." 

The  crowd  were  pouring  off  the  train  and  had  cut  off 
Sallie's  party  in  the  centre  of  the  car. 

"  Gaston,  I  just  came  up  for  your  sake.  I'm  looking 
after  Miss  Lowell.  I'm  lost,  ruined.  Scared  to  say  a 
word.  I  thought  maybe,  you'd  help  me  out.  We'll  pool 
chances.  I'll  talk  for  you  and  you  talk  for  me." 

"  It's  a  bargain,  St.  Clare."   . 

"  I  want  a  separate  carriage, — get  me  one  quick." 

In  a  few  moments,  the  brief  introduction  over,  Gaston 
was  seated  in  the  carriage  facing  Sallie  and  her  mother 
whirling  along  the  road,  over  the  long  hills  toward  the 
Campbell  Sulphur  Springs  in  the  woods,  two  miles  from 
the  town. 

How  beautiful  and  fresh  she  looked  to  him  even  in  a 
dusty  travelling  dress !  He  was  drinking  the  nectar  from 
the  depths  of  her  eyes. 

"  Now  don't  you  think  Helen  the  prettiest  girl  you 
ever  saw,  Mr.  Gaston?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  hadn't  noticed  it." 

"  Where  were  your  eyes  ?  " 


The  Rhythm  of  the  Dance  247 

"  Elsewhere.  I'm  so  glad  you  are  going  to  spend  a 
month  at  the  Springs,  Miss  Sallie.  I  used  to  go  to  school 
there  when  a  little  boy.  They  had  a  girl's  school  there 
in  the  winter  and  boys  under  twelve  were  admitted.  I 
know  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  big  forest  back  of 
the  hotel.  I'll  see  that  you  don't  get  lost." 

"  That  will  be  fine.  But  you  must  bring  every  good- 
looking  boy  in  the  county  and  make  him  bow  down  and 
worship  Helen.  She  is  not  used  to  it,  but  she  is  tickled 
to  death  over  these  Southern  boys,  and  I'm  going  to  give 
her  the  best  time  she  ever  had  in  her  life." 

"  I'll  do  everything  you  command — except  bow  down 
myself.  Bob's  agreed  to  do  that." 

She  smiled  in  spite  of  her  effort  to  look  serious,  and 
her  mother  pinched  her  arm.  She  laughed. 

"  So  you  and  Bob  St.  Clare  were  out  there  plotting 
before  we  could  get  out  of  the  train?  " 

"  Nothing  unlawful,  I  assure  you." 

The  first  day  she  allowed  Gaston  to  monopolise,  and 
then  began  his  torture.  She  declared  there  were  others 
with  whom  she  must  be  friendly.  She  determined  to  give 
a  ball  to  Helen  the  next  week,  and  began  preparations. 

It  was  a  new  business  for  Gaston,  but  he  did  his  best 
to  please  her,  in  a  pathetic  half-hearted  sort  of  way.  He 
ran  all  sorts  of  errands,  and  executed  her  orders  with 
tact. 

"  Oh !  Sallie  let  the  ball  go.  I  don't  care  for  i't.  I 
can  do  nothing  to  ever  repay  you  for  the  good  time  I've 
been  having,"  said  Helen  as  they  sat  in  her  room  one 
night. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  it,  I  tell  you.  I  don't  care  how 
much  Mr.  Gaston  sulks.  I'm  not  taking  orders  from 
him." 

"  No,  but  you'd  like  to — you  know  it." 

"What  an  idea!" 


248  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  You  know  you  like  him  better  than  all  the  others 
put  together." 

"  Nonsense.    I'm  as  free  as  a  bird." 

"  Then  what  are  you  blushing  for  ?  " 

"  I'm  not."    But  her  face  was  scarlet. 

"  You  Southern  girls  are  so  queer.  The  moment  you 
like  a  man  you're  as  sly  as  a  cat,  and  deny  that  you  even 
know  him.  When  I  find  the  man  I  love  I  don't  care 
who  knows  it,  if  he  loves  me." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Bob  St.  Clare?  " 

"  I  like-  him." 

"  Hasn't  he  made  love  to  you  yet  ?  " 

"No,  and  the  only  one  of  the  crowd  who  hasn't.  I 
don't  mind  confessing  that  I  never  had  love  made  to  me 
before  this  visit.  In  Boston  it's  a  serious  thing  for  a 
young  man  to  call  once.  The  second  call,  means  a  family 
council,  and  at  the  third  he  must  make  a  declaration  of 
his  intentions  or  face  consequences.  Down  here,  the 
boys  don't  seem  to  have  anything  to  do  except  to  make 
their  girl  friends  happy,  and  feel  they  are  the  queens  of 
the  earth,  and  that  their  only  mission  is  to  minister  to 
them.  And  some  of  your  girls  are  engaged  to  six  boys 
at  the  same  time." 

"Don't  you  like  it?" 

"  It's  glorious.  I  feel  that  if  I  hadn't  come  down  here 
to  see  you  I'd  have  missed  the  meaning  of  life." 

"  Don't  our  boys  make  love  beautifully  ?  " 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  anything  like  it.  They  make  it 
so  seriously,  so  dead  in  earnest,  you  can't  help  believing 
them." 

"  And  Bob  hasn't  said  a  word?  " 

"  Hasn't  breathed  a  hint." 

"  Then  you  have  him  sure .  They  are  hit  hard  when 
they  are  silent  like  that.  Bob  made  love  to  me  the  second 
day  he  ever  saw  me." 


The  Rhythm  of  the  Dance  249 

"  Don't  tease  me,  dear,"  said  Helen  as  she  put  her 
pretty  rosy  cheek  against  the  dark  beauty  of  the  South. 
"  Do  you  really  think  he  likes  me  seriously  ?  " 

"  He's  crazy  about  you,  goose !  " 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  kiss. 

"  I  can't  tell  stories  about  it  like  you,  Sallie,  I'm  afraid 
I'm  in  love  with  him,"  she  whispered. 

"  Well,  I'll  make  him  court  you  to-morrow  or  have  him 
thrashed,  if  you  say  so." 

"  Don't  you  dare !  " 

"  Then  do  just  as  I  tell  you  about  this  ball  and  get 
yourself  up  regardless." 

On  the  night  of  the  ball,  Gaston,  sitting  out  on  the 
porch,  felt  nervous  and  fidgety,  like  a  fish  out  of  water. 
He  knew  he  had  no  business  there,  and  yet  he  couldn't 
go  away.  They  had  a  quarrel  about  the  ball.  Sallie 
had  insisted  that  Gaston  honour  her  by  coming  in  even- 
ing dress  whether  he  danced  or  not. 

"  But,  Miss  Sallie,  I'll  feel  like  a  fool.  Everybody  in 
the  country  knows  that  I  never  entered  a  ball-room." 

"  Do  you  care  so  much  what  everybody  thinks  about 
you?"  " 

"  'No,  but  I  care  what  I  think  of  myself." 

"  Well,  if  you  don't  come  in  full  dress  suit,  I  won't 
speak  to  you." 

He  turned  pale  in  spite  of  his  effort  at  self  control. 
Then  a  queer  steel-like  look  came  into  his  eyes. 

"  I  shall  be  more  than  sorry  to  fail  to  please  you,  but 
I  have  no  dress  suit.  I  have  never  had  time  for  social 
frivolities.  I  can't  afford  to  buy  one  for  this  occasion. 
I  couldn't  be  nigger  enough  to  hire  one,  so  that's  the  end 
of  it.  I'll  have  to  come  dressed  in  my  own  fashion  or 
stay  at  home." 

"  Then  you  can  stay  at  home,"  she  snapped. 

"  I'll  not  do  it,"  he  coolly  replied. 


250  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Well,  I  like  your  insolence." 

"  I'm  glad  you  do.  I'll  come  as  I  come  to  all  such 
functions,  an  outsider.  I'll  sit  out  here  on  the  porch  in 
the  shadows  and  see  it  from  afar.  If  I  could  only  dance, 
I  assure  you  I'd  try  to  fill  every  number  of  your  card. 
Not  being  able  to  do  so,  I  simply  decline  to  make  a  fool 
of  myself." 

"  For  that  compliment,  I'll  compromise  with  you. 
Wear  that  big  pompous  Prince  Albert  suit  you  spoke  in 
at  Independence,  and  I'll  come  out  on  the  porch  and 
chat  with  you  a  while." 

He  sat  there  now  in  the  shadows  waiting  for  this  ball 
to  begin.  It  was  a  clear  night  the  first  week  in  June. 
The  new  moon  was  hanging  just  over  the  tree  tops.  His 
heart  was  full  to  bursting  with  the  thought  that  the  girl 
he  loved  would,  in  a  few  minutes,  be  whirling  over  that 
polished  floor  to  the  strains  of  a  waltz,  with  another 
man's  arm  around  her.  He  never  knew  how  deeply  he 
hated  dancing  before — that  rhythmic  touch  of  the  human 
body,  set  to  the  melody  of  motion,  and  voiced  in  the 
passionate  cry  of  music.  He  felt  its  challenge  to  his  love 
to  mortal  combat, — his  love  that  claimed  this  one  woman 
as  his  own,  body  and  soul ! 

The  music  from  the  Italian  band  was  in  full  swing, 
its  plaintive  notes  instinct  with  the  passion  of  sunny 
Italy,  a  music  all  Southern  people  love. 

He  felt  that  he  should  choke.  A  sudden  thought 
came  to  him.  Tearing  a  sheet  of  paper  from  a  note 
book  he  scrawled  this  line  upon  it. 

"  Dear  Miss  Sallie : — Please  let  me  see  you  a  moment 
in  the  parlour  before  you  enter  the  ball-room.  Gaston." 

At  least  he  would  see  her  in  her  ball  costume  first. 
Yes,  and  if  she  should  hate  him  for  it,  he  would  beg 
her  not  to  dance  that  night.  He  saw  McLeod,  bowing 
and  scraping  in  the  ball-room  arrayed  in  faultless  full 


Sallie 


A      DAZZLING      VISION      OF      BEAUTY. 


The  Rhythm  of  the  Dance  251 

dress,  and  glancing  toward  the  door.  He  knew  he  was 
waiting  for  her  to  ask  her  to  dance.  How  he  would 
like  to  wring  his  handsome  neck! 

The  boy  returned  immediately  and  said  the  lady  was 
waiting  in  the  parlour.  He  entered  with  a  sense  of  fear 
and  confusion. 

She  came  to  him  with  her  bare  arm  extended,  a  daz- 
zling vision  of  beauty.  She  was  dressed  in  a  creamy 
white  crepe  ball  gown,  cut  modestly  decollete  over  her 
full  bust  and  gleaming  shoulders,  sleeveless,  and  held 
with  tiny  straps  across  the  curve  of  the  upper  arm. 

He  was  stunned.  She  smiled  in  triumph,  conscious  of 
her  resistless  power. 

"  Forgive  me  for  my  selfishness  in  keeping  you  here 
just  a  moment  from  the  rest.  I  wished  to  see  you  first." 

"  What  ?  to  inspect  like  Mama,  to  see  if  I  look  all 
right?" 

"  No,  with  a  mad  desire  to  keep  you  as  long  as  possible 
from  the  others." 

Then  she  looked  up  at  him  and  said  slowly  and  softly, 

"  Would  it  please  you  very  much  if  I  were  not  to  dance 
to-night?" 

"  I  wouldn't  dare  ask  so  selfish  a  thing  of  you.  It  is 
with  you  a  simple  habit  of  polite  society,  and  you  enjoy  it 
as  a  child  does  play.  I  understand  that,  and  yet  if  you 
do  not  dance  to-night,  I  feel  as  though  I  would  crawl 
round  this  world  on  my  hands  and  knees  for  you  if  you 
would  ask  it.  There  are  men  waiting  for  you  in  that 
ball  room  whom  I  hate." 

She  looked  at  him  timidly  as  though  she  were  afraid 
he  was  about  to  say  too  much  and  replied, 

"  Then  I  will  not  dance  to-night.  I'll  just  preside  over 
the  ball  and  let  Helen  be  the  queen." 

"  Words  have  no  power  to  convey  my  gratitude.  1 
count  all  my  little  triumphs  in  life  nothing  to  this.  You 


252  The  Leopard's  Spots 

promised  to  join  me  on  the  porch.  Don't  change  that 
part  of  the  programme.  I  will  talk  to  your  mother  until 
you  come." 

Gaston  went  down  stairs  treading  on  air.  He  sought 
her  mother  and  devoted  himself  to  her  with  supreme  tact. 
He  discovered  her  tastes  and  prejudices  and  paid  her  that 
knightly  deference  some  young  men  express  easily  and 
naturally  to  their  elders.  He  had  always  been  a  favour- 
ite with  old  people.  He  prided  himself  on  it.  This  fac- 
ulty he  regarded  as  a  badge  of  honour.  As  he  sat  there 
and  talked  with  this  frail  little  woman,  his  heart  went 
out  to  her  in  a  great  yearning  love.  She  was  the  mother 
of  the  bride  of  his  soul.  He  would  love  her  forever  for 
that.  No  matter  whether  she  loved  him  or  hated  him. 
He  would  love  the  mother  who  gave  to  his  thirsty  lips 
the  water  of  Life . 

Drawn  irresistibly  by  the  magnetism  of  his  mind  and 
manner  Mrs.  Worth  forgot  the  flight  of  time  and 
thought  but  a  moment  had  past  when  an  hour  after  the 
ball  had  opened,  Sallie  came  out  leaning  on  McLeod's 
arm. 

"  Mama,  have  you  been  monopolising  Mr.  Gaston  for 
a  whole  hour?" 

"  He  hasn't  been  here  a  half  hour,  Miss ! "  cried  her 
mother. 

"  He's  been  here  an  hour  and  ten  minutes.  I'm  going 
to  tell  Papa  on  you  just  as  soon  as  I  get  home." 

"  Go  back  to  your  dancing." 

"  No,  thank  you,  I  have  an  engagement  to  take  a  walk 
with  your  beau.  Come  Mr.  Gaston." 

They  walked  to  the  spring  and  along  the  winding  path 
by  the  brook  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  found  a  rustic 
seat.  They  were  both  silent  for  several  moments. 

"  I  saw  you  were  charming  Mama,  or  I  would  have 


The  Rhythm  of  the  Dance  253 

"  I  hope  she  likes  me." 

"  She  has  been  praising  you  ever  since  your  visit  to 
Independence.  I  never  saw  her  talk  so  long  to  a 
young  man  in  my  life  before.  You  must  have  hypno- 
tised her." 

"  I  hope  so." 

A  strange  happiness  filled  her  heart.  She  was  afraid 
to  look  it  in  the  face;  and  yet  she  dared  to  play  with 
the  thought. 

"Are  you  enjoying  your  triumph  to-night?  I've  had 
war  inside." 

"  I  feel  like  I  am  the  Emperor  of  the  World  and  that 
the  Evening  Star  is  smiling  on  my  court !  " 

She  smiled,  tossed  her  head,  leaned  against  the  tree 
and  said, 

"  I  wonder  if  you  are  in  the  habit  of  saying  things  like 
that  to  girls  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  soul  and  honour,  no." 

"  Then  thanks.    I'll  dream  about  that,  maybe." 

They  returned  to  the  hotel  and  McLeod  claimed  her. 
They  went  back  the  same  walk,  and  by  a  freak  of  fate  he 
chose  the  same  seat  she  had  just  vacated  with  Gaston. 

"  Miss  Sallie,  you  are  of  age  now.  You  know  that  I 
have  loved  you  passionately  since  you  were  a  child.  I 
have  made  my  way  in  life,  I  am  hungry  for  a  home  and 
your  love  to  glorify  it.  Why  will  you  keep  me  waiting  ?  " 

"  Simply  because  I  know  now  I  do  not  love  you,  Allan, 
and  I  never  will.  Once  and  forever,  here,  to-night  I 
give  you  my  last  answer,  I  will  not  be  your  wife." 

"  Then  don't  give  the  answer  to-night.  I  can  wait," 
he  interrupted.  "  I  am  just  on  the  threshold  of  a  great 
career.  Success  is  sure.  I  can  offer  you  a  dazzling  po- 
sition. Don't  give  me  such  an  answer.  Leave  the  old 
answer — to  wait." 

"  No,  I  will  not.     I  do  not  love  you.     If  you  were  to 


254  The  Leopard's  Spots 

become  the  President, '  it  would  not  change  this  fact,  and 
it  is  everything." 

"  Then  you  love  another." 

"That  is  none  of  your  business,  sir.  I  have  known 
you  since  childhood.  I  have  had  ample  time  to  know  my 
own  mind." 

"  All  right,  we  will  say  good-bye  for  the  present.  You 
have  made  me  a  laughing  stock  of  young  fools,  but  I  can 
stand  it.  I'll  not  give  you  up,  and  if  I  can't  have  you, 
no  other  man  shall." 

"  If  you  leave  my  will  out  of  the  calculation,  you  will 
make  a  fatal  mistake." 

"  Women  have  been  known  to  change  their  wills." 

Before  leaving  her  that  night  Gaston  held  her  hand 
for  an  instant  as  he  bade  her  good-bye  and  said,  "  Miss 
Sallie,  I  thank  you  with  inexpressible  gratitude  for  the 
honour  you  have  done  me." 

"  I've  just  been  wondering  what  you  have  done  to  de- 
serve it?" 

"  Absolutely  nothing, — that's  why  it  is  so  sweet.  This 
has  been  the  happiest  day  I  ever  lived.  I  cannot  see  you 
again  before  you  go.  I  leave  to-morrow  on  urgent  busi- 
ness. May  I  come  to  Independence  to  see  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'll  be  delighted  to  see  you.     Good-night." 

Gaston  was  the  last  to  return  to  Hambright.  He  walked 
the  two  miles  through  the  silent  starlit  woods.  He  took 
a  short  cut  his  bare  feet  had  travelled  as  a  boy,  and  with 
uncovered  head  walked  slowly  through  the  dim  aisles  of 
great  trees.  It  was  good,  this  cool  silence  and  the  soft 
mantle  of  the  night  about  his  soul !  The  stars  whispered 
love.  The  wind  sighed  it  through  the  leaves. 

He  had  withdrawn  from  the  church  in  his  college  days 
because  he  had  grown  to  doubt  everything — God,  heaven, 
hell,  and  immortality.  To-night  as  he  walked  slowly 
home  he  heard  that  wonderful  sentence  of  the  old  Bible 


The  Rhythm  of  the  Danoe  255 

ringing  down  the  ages,  wet  with  tears  and  winged  with 
hope, 

"God  is  love!" 

He  said  it  now  softly  and  reverently,  and  the  tears 
came  unbidden  from  his  soul.  He  felt  close  to  the  heart 
of  things.  He  knew  he  was  close  to  the  heart  of  nature. 
What  if  nature  was  only  another  name  for  God?  And 
he  whispered  it  again, 

"Godislove!" 

"  Ah !  If  I  only  knew  it  I  would  bow  down  and  worship 
Him  forever !  "  he  cried. 

When  Sallie  reached  her  mother's  room  that  night, 
Mrs.  Worth  was  seated  by  her  window. 

"  Why  didn't  you  dance?  " 

"  Didn't  care  to." 

"  Sly  Miss,  you  can't  fool  me.  You  didn't  dance  be- 
cause Mr.  Gaston  couldn't.  That  was  a  dangerously 
loud  way  to  talk  to  him." 

"  How  did  you  like  him,  Mama  ?  " 

"  Come  here,  dear,  and  sit  on  the  edge  of  my  chair. 
I  wish  I  knew  when  you  were  in  earnest  about  a  man. 
I  like  him  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  He  talked  to  me 
so  beautifully  about  his  mother,  I  wanted  to  kiss  him. 
He  is  charming." 

"Why,  Mama!" 

"  I'd  like  him  for  a  son.  There's  a  wealth  of  deep 
tenderness  and  manly  power  in  him." 

"  Mama,  you're  getting  giddy !  " 

But  she  kissed  her  mother  twice  when  she  said  good 
night. 


CHAPTER   X 
THE  HEART  OF  A  VILLAIN 

McLEOD  had  developed  into  a  man  of  undoubted 
power.  He  was  but  thirty-two  years  old,  and 
the  dictator  of  his  party  in  the  state. 

He  had  the  fighting  temperament  which  Southern  peo- 
ple demand  in  their  leaders.  With  this  temperament 
he  combined  the  skill  of  subtle  diplomatic  tact.  He  had 
no  moral  scruples  of  any  kind.  The  problem  of  expedi- 
ency alone  interested  him  in  ethics. 

McLeod's  pet  aversion  was  a  preacher,  especially  a 
Baptist  or  a  Methodist.  His  choicest  oaths  he  reserved 
for  them.  He  made  a  study  of  their  weaknesses,  and  could 
tell  dozens  of  stories  to  their  discredit,  many  of  them 
true.  He  had  an  instinct  for  finding  their  weak  spots 
and  holding  them  up  to  ridicule.  He  bought  every 
book  of  militant  infidelity  he  could  find  and  memo- 
rised the  bitterest  of  it.  He  took  special  pride  in  scoffing 
at  religion  before  the  young  converts  of  Durham's 
church. 

He  was  endowed  with  a  personal  magnetism  that  fas- 
cinated the  young  as  the  hiss  of  a  snake  holds  a  bird. 
His  serious  work  was  politics  and  sensualism.  In  politics 
he  was  at  his  best.  Here  he  was  cunning,  plausible, 
careful,  brilliant  and  daring.  He  never  lost  his  head  in 
defeat  or  victory.  He  never  forgot  a  friend,  or  forgave 
an  enemy.  Of  his  foe  he  asked  no  quarter  and  gave 
none. 

256 


The  Heart  of  a  Villain 

His  ambitions  were  purely  selfish.  He  meant  to  climb 
to  the  top.  As  to  the  means,  the  end  would  justify  them. 
He  preferred  to  associate  with  white  people.  But  when 
it  was  necessary  to  win  a  negro,  he  never  hesitated  to  go 
any  length.  The  centre  of  the  universe  to  his  mind  was 
A.  McLeod. 

He  was  fond  of  saying  to  a  crowd  of  youngsters  whom 
he  taught  to  play  poker  and  drink  whiskey, 

"  Boys,  I  know  the  world.  The  great  man  is  the  man 
who  gets  there." 

He  was  generous  with  his  money,  and  the  boys  called 
him  a  jolly  good  fellow.  He  used  to  say  in  explanation 
of  this  careless  habit, 

"  It  won't  do  for  an  ordinary  fool  to  throw  away  money 
as  I  do.  I  play  for  big  stakes.  I'm  not  a  spendthrift. 
I'm  simply  sowing  seed.  I  can  wait  for  the  harvest." 

And  when  they  would  admire  this  overmuch  he  would 
warn  them, 

"  As  a  rule  my  advice  is,  Get  money.  Get  it  fairly 
and  squarely  if  you  can,  but  whatever  you  do, — get  it. 
When  you  come  right  down  to  it,  money's  your  first,  last, 
best  and  only  friend.  Others  promise  well  but  when  the 
scratch  comes,  they  fail.  Money  never  fails." 

A  boy  of  fifteen  asked  him  one  day  when  he  was  mel- 
low with  liquor, 

"  McLeod,  which  would  you  rather  be,  President  of 
the  United  States  or  a  big  millionaire?" 

"  Boys,"  he  replied,  smacking  his  lips,  and  running  his 
tongue  around  his  cheeks  inside  and  softly  caressing  them 
with  one  hand,  while  he  half  closed  his  eyes, 

"  They  say  old  Simon  Legree  is  worth  fifty  millions  of 
dollars,  and  that  his  actual  income  is  twenty  per  cent  on 
that.  They  say  he  stole  most  of  it,  and  that  every  dollar 
represents  a  broken  life,  and  ever£  cent  of  it  could  be 
painted  red  with  the  blood  of  his  victims.  Even  so,  I 


258  The  Leopard's  Spots 

would  rather  be  in  Legree's  shoes  and  have  those  millions 
a  year  than  to  be  Almighty  God  with  hosts  of  angels 
singing  psalms  to  me  through  all  eternity." 

And  the  shallow-pated  satellites  cheered  this  blasphemy 
with  open-eyed  wonder. 

The  weakest  side  of  his  nature  was  that  turned  toward 
women.  He  was  vain  as  a  peacock,  and  the  darling  wish 
of  his  soul  was  to  be  a  successful  libertine.  This  was 
the  secret  of  the  cruelty  back  of  his  desire  of  boundless 
wealth. 

He  had  the  intellectuat  forehead  of  his  Scotch  father, 
large,  handsomely  modelled  features,  nostrils  that  dilated 
and  contracted  widely,  and  the  thick  sensuous  lips  of  his 
mother.  His  eyebrows  were  straight,  thick,  and  sug- 
gested undoubted  force  of  intellect.  His  hair  was  a  deep 
red,  thick  and  coarse,  but  his  moustache  was  finer  and 
it  was  his  special  pride  to  point  its  delicately  curved  tips. 

His  vanity  was  being  stimulated  just  now  by  two  op- 
posite forces.  He  was  in  love,  as  deeply  as  such  a  nature 
could  love,  with  Sallie  Worth.  Her  continued  rejection 
of  his  suit  had  wounded  his  vanity,  but  had  roused  all  the 
pugnacity  of  his  nature  to  strengthen  this  apparent 
weakness. 

He  had  discovered  recently  that  he  exercised  a  potent 
influence  over  Mrs.  Durham.  The  moment  he  was  re- 
pulsed, his  vanity  turned  for  renewed  strength  toward 
her.  He  saw  instantly  the  immense  power  even  the  slight- 
est indiscretion  on  her  part  woud  give  him  over  the 
Preacher's  life.  He  knew  that  while  he  was  not  a  de- 
monstrative man,  he  loved  his  wife  with  intense  devotion. 
He  knew,  too,  that  here  was  the  Preacher's  weakest  spot. 
In  his  tireless  devotion  to  his  work,  he  had  starved  his 
wife's  heart.  He  had  noticed  that  she  always  called  him 
"  Dr.  Durham  "  now,  and  that  he  had  gradually  fallen 
into  the  habit  of  calling  her  "  Mrsc  Durham/' 


The  Heart  of  a  Villain  259 

This  had  been  fixed  in  their  habits,  perhaps  by  the 
change  from  housekeeping  to  living  at  the  hotel.  Since 
old  Aunt  Mary's  death,  Mrs.  Durham  had  given  up  her 
struggle  with  the  modern  negro  servants,  closed  her 
house,  and  they  had  boarded  for  several  years. 

He  saw  that  if  he  could  entangle  her  name  with  his 
in  the  dirty  gossip  of  village  society,  he  could  strike 
his  enemy  a  mortal  blow.  He  knew  that  she  had  grown 
more  and  more  jealous  of  the  crowds  of  silly  women 
that  always  dog  the  heels  of  a  powerful  minister  with 
flattery  and  open  admiration.  He  determined  to  make 
the  experiment. 

Mrs.  Durham,  while  nine  years  his  senior,  did  not  look 
a  day  over  thirty.  Her  face  was  as  smooth  and  soft  and 
round  as  a  girl's,  her  figure  as  straight  and  full,  and  her 
every  movement  instinct  with  stored  vital  powers  thai 
had  never  been  drawn  upon. 

She  was  in  a  dangerous  period  of  her  mental  develop- 
ment. She  had  been  bitterly  disappointed  in  life.  Her 
loss  of  slaves  and  the  ancestral  prestige  of  great  wealth 
had  sent  the  steel  shaft  of  a  poisoned  dagger  into  her 
soul.  She  was  unreconciled  to  it.  While  she  was  pass- 
ing through  the  anarchy  of  Legree's  regime  which  fol- 
lowed the  war,  her  unsatisfied  maternal  instincts  absorbed 
her  in  the  work  of  relieving  the  poor  and  the  broken. 
But  when  the  white  race  rose  in  its  might  and  shook  off 
this  nightmare  and  order  and  a  measure  of  prosperity 
had  come,  she  had  fallen  back  into  brooding  pessimism. 

She  had  reached  the  hour  of  that  soul  crisis  when  she 
felt  life  would  almost  in  a  moment  slip  from  her  grasp, 
and  she  asked  herself  the  question,  "  Have  I  lived  ? " 
And  she  could  not  answer. 

She  found  herself  asking  the  reasons  for  things  long 
accepted  as  fixed  and  eternal.  What  was  good,  right, 
truth?  And  what  made  it  good,  right,  or  true? 


a6o  The  Leopard's  Spots 

And  she  beat  the  wings  of  her  proud  woman's  heart 
against  the  bars  that  held  her,  until  tired,  and  bleeding 
she  was  exhausted  but  unconquered. 

She  was  furious  with  McLeod  for  his  open  association 
with  negro  politicians. 

"  Allan,  in  my  soul,  I  am  ashamed  for  you  when  I 
see  you  thus  degrade  your  manhood/' 

"  Nonsense,  Mrs.  Durham,"  he  replied,  "  the  most 
beautiful  flower  grows  in  dirt,  but  the  flower  is  not 
dirt." 

"  Well,  I  knew  you  were  vain,  but  that  caps  the  cli- 
max!" 

"  Isn't  my  figure  true,  whether  you  say  I'm  dog-fennel 
or  a  pink  ?  " 

"  No,  you  are  not  a  flower.  Will  is  the  soul  of  man. 
The  flower  is  ruled  by  laws  outside  itself.  A  man's  will 
is  creative.  You  can  make  law.  You  can  walk  with 
your  head  among  the  stars,  and  you  choose  to  crawl  in 
a  ditch.  I  am  out  of  patience  with  you." 

"  But  only  for  a  purpose.  You  must  judge  by  the  end 
in  view." 

"  There's  no  need  to  stoop  so  low." 

"  I  assure  you  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  my  aims  in 
life.  And  they  are  high  enough.  I  appreciate  your  in- 
terest in  me,  more  than  I  dare  to  tell  you.  You  have 
always  been  kind  to  me  since  I  was  a  wild  red-headed 
brute  of  a  boy.  And  you  have  always  been  my  supreme 
inspiration  in  work.  While  others  have  cursed  and  scoffed 
you  smiled  at  me  and  your  smile  has  warmed  my  heart 
in  its  blackest  nights." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  mother-like  tenderness. 

"  What  ends  could  be  high  enough  to  justify  such 
methods  ?  " 

"  I  hate  poverty  and  squalour.  It's  been  my  fate.  I've 
sworn  to  climb  out  of  it,  if  I  have  to  fight  or  buy  my 


The  Heart  of  a  Villain  261 

way  through  hell  to  do  it.  I  dream  of  a  palatial  home, 
of  soft  white  beds,  grand  banquet  halls,  and  music  and 
wine,  and  the  faces  of  those  I  love  near  me.  Besides, 
the  work.  I  am  doing  is  the  best  for  the  state  and  the 
nation."  • 

"But  how  can  you  walk  arm  in  arm  with  a  big  black 
negro,  as  they  say  you  do,  to  get  his  vote  ?  " 

"  Simply  because  they  represent  120,000  votes  I  need. 
You  can't  tell  their  colour  when  they  get  in  the  box. 
I  use  these  fools  as  so  many  worms.  My  political 
creed  is  for  public  consumption  only.  I  never  allow  any- 
body to  impose  on  me.  I  don't  allow  even  Allan  McLeod 
to  deceive  me  with  a  paper  platform,  or  a  lot  of  articu- 
lated wind.  I'm  not  a  preacher .  " 

She  winced  at  that  shot,  blushed  and  looked  at  him 
curiously  for  a  moment. 

"  No,  you  are  not  a  preacher.  I  wish  you  were  a  better 
man." 

"  So  do  I,  when  I  am  with  you,"  he  answered  in  a 
low  serious  voice. 

"  But  I  can't  get  over  the  sense  of  personal  degrada- 
tion involved  in  your  association  with  negroes  as  your 
equal,"  she  persisted. 

"  The  trouble  is  you're  an  unreconstructed  rebel 
Women  never  really  forgive  a  social  wrong." 

"  I  am  unreconstructed,"  she  snapped  with  pride. 

"  And  you  thank  God  daily  for  it,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do.  Human  nature  can't  be  reconstructed  b</ 
the  fiat  of  fools  who  tinker  with  laws,"  she  cried. 

"  These  thousands  of  black  votes  are  here.  They've 
got  to  be  controlled.  I'm  doing  the  job." 

"  You  don't  try  to  get  rid  of  them." 

"Get  rid  of  them?  Ye  gods,  that  would  be  a  task! 
The  Negro  is  the  sentimental  pet  of  the  nation.  Put 
him  on  a  continent  alone,  and  he  will  sink  like  an  iron 


The  Leopard's  Spots 

wedge  to  the  bottomless  pit  of  barbarism.  But  he  is  the 
ward  of  the  Republic — our  only  orphan,  chronic,  in- 
capable. That  wardship  is  a  grip  of  steel  on  the  throat 
of  the  South.  Back  of  it  is  an  ocean  of  maudlin  senti- 
mental fools.  I  am  simply  making  the  most  of  the  situ- 
ation. I  didn't  make  it  to  order.  I'm  just  doing  the 
best  I  can  with  the  material  in  hand." 

"  Why  don't  you  come  out  like  a  man  and  defy  this 
horde  of  fools?" 

"  Martyrdom  has  become  too  cheap.  The  preachers 
have  a  hundred  thousand  missionaries  now  we  are  trying 
to  support." 

"  Allan,  I  thought  you  held  below  the  rough  surface 
of  your  nature  high  ideals, — you  don't  mean  this." 

"  What  could  one  man  do  against  these  millions  ?  " 

"  Do !  "  she  cried,  her  face  ablaze.  "  The  history  of 
the  world  is  made  up  of  the  individuality  of  a  few  men. 
A  little  Yankee  woman  wrote  a  crude  book.  The  single 
act  of  that  woman's  will  caused  the  war,  killed  a  million 
men,  desolated  and  ruined  the  South,  and  changed  the 
history  of  the  world.  The  single  dauntless  personality 
of  George  Washington  three  times  saved  the  colonies 
from  surrender  and  created  the  Republic.  I  am  surprised 
to  hear  a  man  of  your  brain  and  reading  talk  like  that !  " 

"  When  I  am  with  you  and  hear  your  voice  I  have 
heroic  impulses.  You  are  the  only  human  being  with 
whom  I  would  take  the  time  to  discuss  this  question.  But 
the  current  is  too  strong.  The  other  way  is  easier,  and 
it  serves -my  ends  better.  Besides,  I  am  not  sure  it  isn't 
better  from  every  point  of  view.  We've  got  the  Negro 
here,  and  must  educate  him," 

"  Hush !  Tell  that  to  somebody  that  hates  you,  not  to 
me,"  she  cried. 

"  Don't  you  think  we  must  educate  them  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  it  is  a  crime." 


The  Heart  of  a  Villain  263 

"  Would  you  leave  them  in  ignorance,  a  threat  to  so- 
ciety?" 

"  Yes,  until  they  can  be  moved.  When  I  see  these 
young  negro  men  and  women  coming  out  of  their  schools 
and  colleges  well  dressed,  with  their  shallow  veneer  of 
an  imitation  culture,  I  feel  like  crying  over  the  farce." 

"  Surely,  Mrs.  Durham,  you  believe  they  are  better 
fitted  for  life?" 

"  They  are  not.  They  are  lifted  out  of  their  only 
possible  sphere  of  menial  service,  and  denied  any  career. 
It  is  simply  inhuman.  They  are  led  to  certain  slaughter 
of  soul  and  body  at  last.  It  is  a  horrible  tragedy." 

Allan  looked  at  her,  smiled,  and  replied,  "  I  knew  you 
were  a  bitter  and  brilliant  woman  but  I  didn't  think  you 
would  go  to  such  lengths  even  with  your  pet  aversions." 

"  It's  not  an  aversion,  or  a  prejudice,  sir.  It's  a  simple 
fact  of  history.  Education  increases  the  power  of  the 
human  brain  to  think  and  the  heart  to  suffer.  Sooner  or 
later  these  educated  negroes  feel  the  clutch  of  the  iron 
hand  of  the  white  man's  unwritten  laws  on  their  throat. 
They  have  their  choice  between  a  suicide's  grave  or 
a  prison  cell.  And  the  numbers  who  dare  the  grave 
arid  the  prison  cell  daily  increase.  The  South  is  kinder 
to  the  Negro  when  he  is  kept  in  his  place." 

"  You  are  a  quarter  of  a  century  behind  the  times." 

"  Am  I  so  pld?  "  she  laughed. 

"  The  sentiment,  not  the  woman.  You  are  the  most 
beautiful  woman  I  ever  saw." 

"  I  like  all  my  boys  to  feel  that  way  about  me." 

"  You  don't  class  me  quite  with  the  rest,  do  you  ?  " 

She  blushed  the  slightest  bit.  "  No,  I've  always  taken 
a  peculiar  interest  in  you.  I  have  quarrelled  with  every- 
body who  has  hated  and  spoken  evil  of  you.  I  have 
always  believed  you  were  capable  of  a  high  and  noble 
life  of  great  achievement," 


264  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  And  your  faith  in  me  has  been  my  highest  incentive 
to  give  the  lie  to  my  enemies  and  succeed.  And  I  will. 
I  will  be  the  master  of  this  state  within  two  years.  And 
I  want  you  to  remember  that  I  lay  it  all  at  your  feet.  The 
world  need  not  know  it, — you  know  it."  He  spoke  with 
intense  earnestness. 

"  But  I  don't  want  you  to  make  such  a  success  at  the 
price  of  Negro  equality.  I  feel  a  sense  of  unspeakable 
degradation  for  you  when  I  hear  your  name  hissed.  At 
least  I  was  your  teacher  once.  Come  Allan,  give  up 
Negro  politics  and  devote  yourself  to  an  honourable 
career  in  law !  " 

He  shook  his  head  with  calm  persistence. 

"  No,  this  is  my  calling." 

"  Then  take  a  nobler  one." 

"  To  succeed  grandly  is  the  only  title  to  nobility  here." 

"  Is  the  Doctor  on  speaking  terms  with  you  now  ?  " 

"  Oh !  yes,  I  joke  him  about  his  hide-bound  Bourbon- 
ism,  and  he  tells  me  I  am  all  sorts  of  a  villain.  But 
we  have  made  an  agreement  to  hate  one  another  in  a 
polite  sort  of  way  as  becomes  a  teacher  in  Israel  and  a 
statesman  with  responsibilities.  By  the  way,  I  saw  him 
driving  to  the  Springs  with  a  bevy  of  pretty  girls  a  few 
hours  ago." 

"Indeed,  I  didn't  know  it!" 

"  Yes,  he  seemed  to  be  having  a  royal  time  and  to 
have  renewed  his  youth." 

An  angry  flush  came  to  her  face  and  she  made  no  reply. 
McLeod  glanced  at  her  furtively  and  smiled  at  this  evi- 
dence that  his  shot  had  gone  home. 

"  Would  you  drive  with  me  to  the  Springs  ?  We  will 
get  there  before  this  party  starts  back."  She  hesitated, 
and  answered,  "  yes," 


CHAPTER   XI 
THE  OLD  OLD  STORY 

WHEN  Gaston  arrived  in  Independence  he  went 
direct  to  St.  Clare's, 
"  Where    the    Dickens    have    you    been, 
Gaston?" 

"  Jumping  from  Murphy  to  Manteo  making  love  to 
hayseed  statesmen." 

"What  luck?" 

"  They're  all  crazy.  They  swear  they  are  going  to  have 
the  United  States  establish  a  Sub-Treasury  in  Raleigh 
and  issue  Government  script  they  can  use  as  money  on 
their  pumpkins,  or  they  are  going  to  tear  the  nation  to 
tatters  and  vote  for  a  nigger  for  Governor  if  necessary !  " 

"  Can't  you  get  into  their  fool  heads  that  an  alliance 
with  the  Republican  party  is  the  last  way  on  earth  for 
them  to  go  about  their  Sub-Treasury  schemes  ?  " 

"  Can't  seem  to  do  a  thing  with  them.  McLeod's 
stuffed  them  full.  I'm  sick  of  it.  I've  a  notion  to  let 
them  go  with  the  niggers  and  go  to  the  devil.  It's  grow- 
ing on  me  that  there  must  be  another  way  out.  I  can't 
get  down  in  the  dirt  and  prostitute  my  intellect  and  lie 
to  these  fools.  We've  got  to  get  rid  of  the  Negro." 

"  A  large  job,  old  man." 

"  Yes,  it  is,  and  thank  God  I'm  done  with  it  for  a 
week.  I'm  going  to  heaven  now  for  a  few  days.  I'll  see 
her  in  an  hour .  I  rise  on  tireless  wings !  " 

"  Look  out  you  don't  come  down  too  suddenly.  The 
earth  may  feel  hard," 

265 


266  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Bob,  I'm  going  to  risk  it,  I'm  going  to  look  fate 
squarely  in  the  face  and  get  my  answer  like  a  little  man, 
for  life  or  death/' 

Mrs.  Worth  met  Gaston  and  greeted  him  with  warmest 
cordiality, 

"  We  are  charmed  to  welcome  you  to  Oak  wood  again, 
Mr.  Gaston0" 

"  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Worth,  I  never  saw  a  home  so 
beautiful.  I  feel  as  though  I  am  in  paradise  when  I 
get  here," 

"  I  hope  to  see  more  of  you  this  time,  I  feel  that  I 
know  you  so  much  better  since  our  talk  at  the  Springs." 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Worth."  He  said  this  so  simply 
and  earnestly  she  could  but  feel  his  deep  appreciation  of 
her  attitude  of  welcome, 

"  Sallie  will  be  down  in  a  minute." 

Gaston  smiled  in  spite  of  himselfo 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at?  " 

"  I  was  just  thinking  how  sweetly  her  name  sounded 
on  your  lips." 

"  Do  you  like  these  old-fashioned  Southern  names  ?  " 

"  I  think  they  are  lovely." 

"  Well,  that's  my  name  too." 

Sallie  suddenly  stepped  from  the  hall  into  the  doorway. 

"  Now,  Mama,  there  you  are  again  carrying  on  with 
one  of  my  beaux!  I  don't  know  what  I  will  do  with 
you!" 

Mrs.  Worth  actually  blushed,  sprang  up  and  struck 
Sallie  lightly  on  the  arm  with  her  fan  exclaiming,  "  Oh ! 
you  sly  thing,  to  stand  out  there  and  listen  to  what  I 
said!  Mr.  Gaston  I  turn  her  over  to  you  to  punish  her 
for  such  conduct." 

"  Isn't  she  a  dear  ?  "  said  Sallie  when  her  mother  was 
gone. 

"  I  was  charmed  with  her  at  the    Springs,  but    the 


The  Old  Old  Story  267 

gracious  way  she  made  me  feel  at  home  this  morning 
completely  won  my  heart," 

"  I  can  do  anything  with  Mama.  She's  the  dearest 
mother  that  ever  lived.  She  always  seems  to  know  in- 
tuitively my  heart's  wish,  and,  if  it's  best,  give  it  to  me, 
and  if  it's  not,  she  makes  me  cease  to  desire  it.  I  wish 
I  could  manage  Papa  as  easily." 

"  I'm  sure  he  idolises  you,  Miss  Sallie." 

"  He  does,  but  when  he  lays  the  law  down,  that  settles 
it.  I  can't  move  him  one  inch." 

"  That's  the  way  with  forceful  men,  who  do  things 
in  the  world»" 

"  Well,  I  confess  I  like  to  have  my  own  way  sometimes. 
I  wonder  if  you  are  like  that  ?  " 

"  I'll  be  frank  with  you.  Somehow  I  never  could  be 
anything  else  if  I  tried.  I  don't  think  a  man  of  strong 
character  will  yield  to  every  whim  of  a  woman,  whether 
wife  or  daughter." 

"  I  heard  of  a  man  the  other  day  who  whipped  his 
wife,"  she  said  in  a  far  away  tone  of  voice.  "  Come,  my 
horse  is  ready,  go  with  me  for  another  ride  to-day.  I 
am  going  to  take  you  across  the  river  and  show  you  a 
pretty  drive  over  there." 

They  were  soon  lost  in  the  deep  shadows  of  the  stately 
pine  forest  that  lay  beyond  the  Catawba.  The  road  was 
a  cross-country  narrow  way  that  wound  in  and  out  around 
the  big  trees, 

They  jogged  slowly  along  while  he  bathed  his  soul  in 
the  joy  of  her  presence.  Oh,  to  be  alone  and  near  her! 
There  seemed  to  him  a  magic  power  in  the  touch  of  her 
dress  as  she  sat  in  the  little  buggy  so  close  by  his  side. 
For  hours,  again  he  lay  at  her  feet  and  drank  the  wine 
of  her  beauty  until  his  heart  was  drunk  with  love. 

Once  he  opened  his  lips  to  tell  her,  and  a  great  fear 
awed  him  into  silence.  He  longed  to  pour  out  to  her  his 


268  The  Leopard's  Spots 

passion,  but  feared  her  answer.  He  had  studied  her  every 
word  and  tone  and  look  and  hand-pressure  since  he  had 
known  her.  He  was  sure  she  loved  him.  And  yet  he 
was  not  sure.  She  was  so  skilled  in  the  science  of  self 
defence,  so  subtle  a  mistress  of  all  the  arts  of  polite 
society  in  which  the  soul's  deepest  secrets  are  hid  from 
the  world,  he  was  paralysed  now  as  the  moment  drew 
near.  He  put  it  off  another  day  and  gave  himself  up  to 
the  pure  delight  of  her  face  and  form  and  voice  and 
presence. 

That  evening  when  she  entered  the  home  her  mother 
caught  her  hand  and  softly  whispered,  "  Did  he  court 
you  to-day,  Sallie  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  smilingly.  "  No,  but  I  think  he 
will  to-morrow/' 

St.  Clare  was  sitting  on  his  veranda  awaiting  Gaston's 
return. 

"  What  luck,  old  boy  ?  "  he  eagerly  asked. 

"  Couldn't  say  a  word.     I'll  do  it  to-morrow  or  die." 

"  Shake  hands  partner.     I've  been  there." 

"  Bob,  it's  a  serious  thing  to  run  up  against  a  little 
answer  '  yes '  or  ( no/  that  means  life  or  death." 

"  Feel  like  you'd  rather  live  on  hope  a  while,  and  let 
things  drift,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Exactly.  I  think  I  can  understand  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life  that  awful  look  in  a  prisoner's  face  on  trial 
for  his  life,  when  he  watches  the  lips  of  the  foreman  of 
the  jury  to  catch  the  first  letter  of  the  verdict.  I  used 
to  think  that  an  interesting  psychological  study.  By 
George,  I  feel  I  am  his  brother  now." 

The  next  day  was  perfect.  The  warm  life-giving  sun 
of  June  was  tempered  by  breezes  that  swept  fresh  and 
invigorating  over  the  earth  that  had  been  drenched  with 
showers  in  the  night.  The  woods  were  ringing  with  the 
chorus  of  feathered  throats  chanting  the  old  oratorio  of 


The  Old  Old  Story  269 

life  and  love.  Again  Gaston  and  Sallie  were  jogging 
along  the  shady  river  road  they  had  travelled  on  the  first 
day  she  had  taken  him  driving. 

"  Do  you  remember  this  road?  "  she  asked. 

"  I'll  never  forget  it.  Along  this  road  we  hurried  in 
the  twilight  to  face  your  angry  mother,  and  just  one 
kiss  smoothed  her  brow  into  a  welcoming  smile  for 
me." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  risk  greater  trouble  to-day,  and 
take  you  a  mile  or  two  further  up  the  river  to  the  old 
mill' site  at  the  rapids.  It's  the  most  beautiful  and  ro- 
mantic spot  in  the  country.  The  river  spreads  out  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  in  width,  and  goes  plunging  and  dash- 
ing down  the  rapids  through  thousands  of  projecting 
rocks,  a  mass  of  white  foam  as  far  as  you  can  see.  It's 
full  of  tiny  green  islands  with  ferns  and  rhododendron 
and  wild  grape  vines,  and  their  perfume  sweetens  the 
air  for  miles  along  the  water.  These  little  islands,  some 
ten  feet  square,  some  an  acre,  are  full  of  mocking-birds 
nesting  there,  though  since  the  mills  were  burned  dur- 
ing the  war  nobody  has  lived  near.  The  songs  of  these 
birds  seem  tuned  to  the  music  of  the  river." 

"  It  must  be  a  glimpse  of  fairy-land !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  know  you  will  be  thrilled  with  its  romantic  beauty. 
It's  five  miles  from  a  house  in  any  direction." 

Gaston  was  silent.  He  made  a  resolution  in  his 
soul  that  he  would  never  leave  that  spot  until  he 
knew  his  fate.  His  heart  began  to  thump  now  like  a 
sledge-hammer.  He  looked  down  furtively  at  her  and 
tried  to  imagine  how  she  would  look  and  what  she  would 
say  when  he  should  startle  her  first  with  some  word  of 
tender  endearment  or  the  sound  of  her  name  he  had  said 
over  and  over  a  thousand  times  in  his  heart,  and  aloud 
when  alone,  but  never  dared  to  use  without  its  prefix. 

She  saw  his  abstraction  and  divined  intuitively  the  cur- 


470  The  Leopard's  Spots 

rent  of  emotions  with  which  he  was  struggling,  but  pre- 
tended not  to  notice  it.  He  tied  the  horse  at  the  old  mill, 
and  they  walked  slowly  down  the  bank  of  the  river, 

"  That  is  my  island,"  she  cried  pointing  out  into  the 
river.  "  That  third  one  in  the  group  running  oilt  from 
the  point.  We  can  step  from  one  rock  to  another  to 
it," 

It  was  indeed  an  entrancing  spot.  The  island  seemed 
all  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  river  when  one  was  on  it. 
It  was  not  more  than  fifty  feet  wide  and  a  hundred  feet 
long,  its  length  lying  with  the  swift  current.  At  the 
lower  end  of  it  a  fine  ash  tree  spread  its  dense  shade, 
hanging  far  over  the  still  waters  that  stood  in  smooth 
eddy  at  its  roots.  On  the  upper  side  of  this  tree  lay 
a  big  boulder  resting  against  its  trunk  and  embedded 
in  a  mass  of  clean  white  sand  the  water  had  filtered  and 
washed  and  thrown  there  on  some  spring  flood. 

She  climbed  on  this  rock,  sat  down,  and  leaned  her 
bare  head  against  its  trunk. 

"  This  is  my  throne,"  she  laughingly  cried. 

He  leaned  against  the  rock  and  looked  up  at  her  with 
eyes  through  which  the  yearning,  the  hunger,  the  joy, 
and  the  fear  of  all  life  were  quivering.  What  a  picture 
she  made  under  the  dark  cool  shadows !  Her  dress  was 
again  of  spotless  white  that  seemed  now  to  have  been 
woven  out  of  the  foam  of  the  river.  Her  throat  was 
bare,  her  cheeks  flushed,  and  her  wavy  hair  the  wind 
had  blown  loose  into  a  hundred  stray  ringlets  about  her 
face  and  neck.  Her  lips  were  trembling  with  a  smile  at 
his  speechless  admiration. 

"  You  seem  to  have  been  struck  dumb/'  she  said. 
"  Isn't  this  glorious  ?  " 

"  Beyond  words,  Miss  Sallie.  I  didn't  know  there  was 
such  a  spot  on  the  earth." 

"  This  is  my  favourite  perch.    Art  and  wealth  could 


The  Old  Old  Story  471 

never  make  anything  like  this!  I  could  come  here  and 
sit  and  dream  all  day  alone  if  Mama  would  let  me." 

He  tried  to  begin  the  story  of  his  love,  but  every  time 
his  tongue  refused  to  move.  He  was  trembling  with 
nervous  hesitation  and  began  to  dig  a  hole  in  the  sand 
with  his  heel. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  to-day  ?  I  never  saw 
you  so  serious  and  moody." 

Just  then  a  female  mocking-bird  in  her  modest  dove- 
coloured  dress  lit  on  a  swaying  limb  whose  tips  touched 
the  still  water  of  the  eddy  at  their  feet,  and  her  proud 
mate  with  head  erect,  far  up  on  the  topmost  twig  of  the 
ash  struck  softly  the  first  note  of  his  immortal  love  poem, 
the  dropping  song. 

"  Listen,  he's  going  to  sing  his  dropping  song ! "  he 
cried  in  a  whisper. 

And  they  listened.  He  sang  his  first  stanza  in  a  low 
dreamy  voice,  and  then  as  the  sweetness  of  his  love  and 
the  glory  of  his  triumph  grew  on  his  bird  soul,  he  lifted 
his  clear  notes  higher  and  higher  until  the  woods  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  rang  with  its  melody. 

His  mate  turned  her  eyes  upward  and  quietly  twittered 
a  sweet  little  answer. 

His  response  rang  like  a  silver  trumpet  far  up  in  the 
sky !  He  sprang  ten  feet  into  the  air  and  slowly  dropped 
singing,  singing  his  long  trilling  notes  of  melting  sweet- 
ness. He  stopped  on  the  topmost  twig,  sat  a  moment, 
never  ceasing  his  matchless  song,  and  then  began  to  fall 
downward  from  limb  to  limb  toward  his  mate,  pouring 
out  his  soul  in  mad  abandonment  of  joy,  but  growing 
softer,  sweeter,  more  tender  as  he  drew  nearer.  They 
could  see  her  tremble  now  with  pride  and  love  at  his 
approach,  as  she  glanced  timidly  upward,  and  answered 
him  with  maiden  modesty.  At  last  when  he  readied  her 
side,  his  song  was  so  low  and  sweet  and  dream-like  it 


272  The  Leopard's  Spots 

could  scarcely  be  heard.  He  touched  the  tip  of  her  beak 
with  a  bird  kiss,  they  chirped,  and  flew  away  t©  the  woods 
together. 

Gaston  determined  to  speak  or  die.  His  eyes  were  wet 
with  unshed  tears,  and  he  was  trembling  from  head  to 
foot.  He  had  meant  to  pour  out  his  love  for  her  like 
that  bird  in  words  of  passionate  beauty,  but  all  he  could 
do  was  to  say  with  stammering  voice  low  and  tense  with 
emotion, 

"Miss  Sallie,  I  love  you!" 

He  had  meant  to  say  "  Sallie,"  but  at  the  last  gasp  of 
breath,  as  he  spoke,  his  courage  had  failed.  He  did  not 
look  up  at  first.  And  when  she  was  silent,  he  timidly 
looked  up,  fearing  to  hear  the  answer  or  read  it  in  her 
face.  She  smiled  at  him  and  broke  into  a  low  peal  of 
joyous  laughter!  And  there  was  a  note  of  joy  in  her 
laughter  that  was  contagious. 

"  Please  don't  laugh  at  me,"  he  stammered,  smiling 
himself. 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  laughed  again. 
She  looked  at  him  with  her  great  blue  eyes  wide  open, 
dancing  with  fun,  and  wet  with  tears. 

"  Do  you  know,  it's  the  funniest  thing  in  the  world, 
you  are  the  sixth  man  who  has  made  love  to  me  on  this 
rock  within  a  year ! "  and  again  she  laughed  in  his  face. 

"  Look  here,  Miss  Sallie,  this  is  cruel ! " 

"  Dear  old  rock.  It's  enchanted.  It  never  fails !  "  and 
she  laughed  softly  again,  and  patted  the  rock  with  her 
hand. 

"  Surely  you  have  tortured  me  long  enough.  Have 
some  pity." 

"  It  is  a  pitiable  sight  to  see  a  big  eloquent  man  stam- 
mer and  do  silly  things  isn't  it?  " 

"  Rease  give  me  your  answer,"  he  cried  still  trembling, 


The  Old  Old  Story  273 

"  Oh !  it's  not  so  serious  as  all  that !  "  she  said  with 
dancing  eyes. 

"  I'm  in  the  dust  at  your  feet." 

"  You  mean  in  the  sand.  Did  you  know  that  you  dug 
a  hole  in  that  sand  deep  enough  to  bury  me  in?  I 
thought  once  you  were  meditating  murder  by  the  ex- 
pression on  your  face." 

"  Please  give  me  one  earnest  look  from  your  eyes,"  he 
pleaded. 

"  You're  a  terrible  disappointment,"  she  answered  lean- 
ing back  and  putting  her  hands  behind  her  head  thought- 
fully. 

His  heart  stood  still  at  this  unexpected  speech. 

"  How  ?  "  he  slowly  asked,  looking  down  at  the  sand 
again. 

"  Because,"  she  said  in  her  old  tantalising  tone,  "  I 
expected  so  much  of  you." 

"  Then  you  don't  class  me  with  the  other  poor  devils 
at  least  ?  "  he  asked  hopefully. 

"  No,  no,  they  were  handsome  boys  and  made  me  beau- 
tiful speeches.  But  you  are  distinguished.  You  are  a 
man  that  everybody  would  look  at  twice  in  a  crowd. 
You  are  a  famous  young  orator  who  can  hold  thousands 
breathless  with  eloquence.  I  thought  you  would  make 
me  the  most  beautiful  speech.  But  you  acted  like  a 
school  boy,  stammered,  looked  foolish,  and  pawed  a  hole 
in  the  ground !  "  Again  she  laughed. 

"  I  confess,  Miss  Sallie,  I  was  never  so  overwhelmed 
with  terror  and  nervousness  by  an  audience  before," 

"  And  just  one  girl  to  hear! " 

"  Yes,  but  she  counts  more  with  me  than  all  the  other 
millions,  and  one  kind  look  from  her  eyes  I  would  hold 
dearer  at  this  moment  than  a  conquered  world's  ap- 
plause » " 


274  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  That's  fine !  That's  something  like  it .  Say  more  I  " 
she  cried. 

His  face  clouded  and  he  looked  earnestly  at  her. 

"  Come,  come,  Miss  Sallie,  this  is  too  cruel.  I  have 
torn  my  heart's  deepest  secrets  open  to  you,  and  trem- 
blingly laid  my  life  at  your  feet,  and  you  are  laughing  at 
me.  I  have  paid  you  the  highest  homage  one  human 
soul  can  offer  another.  Surely  I  deserve  better  than 
this?" 

"  There,  you  do.  Forgive  me.  I  have  seen  so  much 
shallow  love  making,  I  am  never  quite  sure  a  boy's  in 
dead  earnest."  She  spoke  now  with  seriousness. 

"  You  cannot  doubt  my  earnestness.  I  have  spoken  to 
you  this  morning  the  first  words  of  love  that  ever  passed 
my  lips.  One  chamber  of  my  soul  has  always  been 
sacred.  It  was  the  throne  room  of  Love,  reserved  for  the 
One  Woman  waiting  'for  me  somewhere  whom  I  should 
find.  I  would  not  allow  an  angel  to  enter  it,  and  I  hid  it 
from  the  face  of  God.  I  have  opened  it  this  morning. 
It  is  yours." 

She  softly  slipped  her  hand  in  his,  and  tremblingly 
said,  while  a  tear  stole  down  her  cheek, 

"  I  do  love  you !  " 

He  bent  over  her  hand  and  kissed  it,  and  kissed  it, 
while  his  frame  shook  with  uncontrollable  emotion.  Then 
looking  up  through  his  dimmed  eyes,  he  said, 

"  My  darling,  that  was  the  sweetest  music,  that  sen- 
tence, that  I  shall  ever  hear  in  this  world  or  in  all  the 
worlds  beyond  it  in  eternity !  " 

"  When  did  you  first  begin  to  love  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  But  I  loved  you  the  first  moment  you 
looked  into  my  face  while  I  was  speaking  that  day. 
And  I  recognised  you  instantly  as  the  Dream  of  my 
Soul.  I  have  loved  you  for  ever,  ages  before  we  were 
born  in  this  world,  somewhere,  our  souls  met  and  knew 


The  Old  Old  Story  175 

and  loved.  And  I've  been  looking  for  you  ever  since. 
When  I  saw  you  there  in  the  crowd  that  day  looking  up 
at  me  with  those  beautiful  blue  eyes,  I  felt  like  shouting 
"  I  have  found  her !  I  have  found  her !  "  and  rushing 
to  your  side  lest  I  should  not  see  you  again." 

"  It  is  strange — this  feeling  that  we  have  known  each 
other  forever.  The  moment  you  touched  my  hand  that 
first  day,  a  sense  of  perfect  content  and  joy  in  living  came 
over  me.  I  couldn't  remember  the  time  when  I  hadn't 
known  you.  You  seemed  so  much  a  part  of  my  inmost 
thoughts  and  every  day  life.  I  laughed  this  morning 
from  sheer  madness  of  joy  when  you  told  me  your  love  » 
I  knew  you  were  going  to  tell  me  to-day.  You  tried 
yesterday,  but  I  held  you  back.  I  wanted  you  to  tell 
me  here  at  this  beautiful  spot,  that  the  music  of  this 
water  might  always  sing  its  chorus  with  the  memory 
of  your  words." 

"  Let  me  kiss  your  lips  once!  "  he 'pleaded. 

"  No,  you  shall  hold  my  hand  and  kiss  that.  Your 
touch  thrills  every  nerve  of  my  being  like  wine.  It  is 
enough.  I  promised  Mama  I  would  never  allow  a  man 
to  kiss  me  without  asking  her.  And  we  are  like  loving 
comrades.  I  couldn't  violate  a  promise  to  her.  I  will, 
when  she  says  so." 

"  Then  I'll  ask  her.    I  know  she's  on  my  side." 

"  Yes,  I  believe  she  loves  you  because  I  do." 

"  What  did  you  whisper  to  her  that  night,  when  we 
came  late,  and  you  said  she  would  be  angry?  " 

"  Told  her  I  loved  you." 

"  If  I  could  only  have  caught  that  whisper  then  I  You 
don't  know  how  it  delights  me  to  think  your  mother 
likes  me.  I  couldn't  help  loving  her.  It  seems  to  me  a 
divine  seal  on  our  lives/' 

"  Yes,  and  what  specially  delights  me  is,  you  have 
completely  captured  Papa,  and  he's  so  hard  to  please." 


276  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  You  don't  say  so!  " 

"  Yes,  he's  been  preaching  you  at  me  ever  since  you 
came  the  first  time.  I  pretended  to  be  indifferent  to 
draw  him  out.  He  would  say,  '  Now  Sallie,  there's  a 
man  for  you, — no  pretty  dude,  but  a  man,  with  a  kingly 
eye  and  a  big  brain.  That's  the  kind  of  a  man  who  does 
things  in  the  world  and  makes  history  for  smaller  men 
to  read/  "  And  then  I'd  say  just  to  aggravate  him,  '  But 
Papa  he's  as  poor  as  Job's  turkey ! ' 

"  Then  you  ought  to  have  heard  him,  '  Well,  what  of 
it!  You  can  begin  in  a  cabin  like  your  mother  and  I 
did.  He's  got  a  better  start  than  I  had,  for  he  has  a  better 
training/  " 

"  I  am  certainly  glad  to  hear  that !  "  Gaston  cried  with 
elation. 

"  You  may  be.  For  Papa  is  a  man  of  such  intense 
likes  and  dislikes.  The  first  thing  that  made  my  heart 
flutter  with  fear  was  that  he  might  not  like  you.  He 
loves  me  intensely.  And  I  love  him  devotedly.  I  could 
not  marry  without  his  consent.  You  are  so  entirely  dif- 
ferent from  any  other  beau  I  ever  had,  I  couldn't  imagine 
what  Papa  would  think  of  you.  You  wear  such  a  serious 
face,  never  go  into  society,  care  nothing  for  fine  clothes, 
and  are  so  careless  that  you  even  hung  your  feet  out 
of  the  buggy  that  first  day  I  took  you  to  drive.  I  was 
glad  to  have  you  in  the  woods  and  not  in  town.  The 
boys  would  have  guyed  me  to  death.  In  fact  you  are 
the  contradiction  of  the  average  man  I  have  known,  and 
of  all  the  men  I  thought  as  a  girl  I'd  marry  some  day. 
I  am  so  glad  Papa  likes  you." 

That  evening  when  they  reached  the  house,  she  hurried 
through  the  hall  to  her  mother  who  was  standing  on  the 
back  porch.  There  was  the  sudden  swish  of  a  dress,  a 
kiss,  another!  and  another!  And  then  the  low  murmur 
of  a  mother's  voice  like  the  crooning  over  a  baby » 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  MUSIC  OF  THE  MILLS 

WHEN  Gaston  reached  his  home  that  night  St. 
Clare  had  gone  to  bed.  It  was  one  o'clock. 
He  could  not  sleep  yet,  so  he  sat  in  the  win- 
dow and  tried  to  realise  his  great  happiness,  as  he  looked 
out  on  the  green  lawn  with  its  white  gravelled  walk 
glistening  in  the  full  moon. 

'''  The  world  is  beautiful,  life  is  sweet,  and  God  is 
good ! "  he  cried  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy. 

He  sat  there  in  the  moonlight  for  an  hour  dreaming  of 
his  love  and  the  great  strenuous  life  of  achievement  he 
would  live  with  her  to  inspire  him.  It  seemed  too  good 
to  be  true.  And  yet  it  was  the  largest  living  fact .  Like 
throbbing  music  the  words  were  ringing  in  his  heart 
keeping  time  with  the  rhythm  of  its  beat, "  I  do  love  you !  " 

And  then  he  did  something  he  had  not  done  for  years, 
— not  since  his  boyhood, — he  knelt  in  the  silence  of  the 
moonlit  room  and  prayed .  Love  the  great  Revealer  had 
led  him  into  the  presence  of  God.  The  impulse  was 
spontaneous  and  resistless.  "  Lord,  I  have  seen  Tfiy  face, 
heard  Thy  voice,  and  felt  the  touch  of  Thy  hand  to-day ! 
I  bless  and  praise  Thee!  Forgive  my  doubts  and  fears 
and  sins,  cleanse  and  make  me  worthy  of  her  whom  Thou 
has  sent  as  Thy  messenger !  "  So  he  poured  out  his  soul. 

Next  morning  he  grasped  St.  Clare's  hand  as  he  en- 
tered the  room.  "  Bob,  I'm  the  happiest  man  in  the 
world!" 

"  Congratulations !    You  look  it" 


278  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  She  loves  trie !  I'd  like  to  climb  up  on  the  top  of  this 
house  and  shout  it  until  all  earth  and  heaven  could  hear 
and  be  glad  with  me !  " 

"  Well,  don't  do  it,  my  boy.    See  her  father  first!  " 

"  She  says  he  likes  me." 

"  Then  you're  elected." 

"  I'm  going  to  tackle  him  before  I  go  home." 

"  Don't  rush  him.  There's  a  superstition  prevalent 
here  that  the  old  gentleman  has  no  idea  of  ever  letting 
his  daughter  leave  that  home,  and  that  he  will  never  give 
his  consent,  when  driven  to  the  wall,  unless  his  son-in- 
law  that  is  to  be,  will  agree  to  settle  down  there  and 
take  his  place  in  those  big  mills.  He  has  two  great  loves, 
his  daughter  and  his  mills,  and  he  don't  mean  to  let 
either  one  of  them  go  if  he  can  help  it." 

"Do  you  believe  it's  true?" 

"  Yes,  I  do.    How  do  you  like  the  idea?  " 

"  It's  not  my  style.  I've  a  pretty  clear  idea  of  what 
I'm  going  to  do  in  this  world." 

"  Well,  you'd  better  begin  to  haul  in  your  silk  sails, 
and  study  cotton  goods,  is  my  advice." 

"  I'll  manage  him." 

"  I  don't  know  about  it,  but  if  you've  got  her,  you're 
the  first  man  that  ever  got  far  enough  to  measure  him- 
self with  the  General.  I  wish  you  luck." 

"  You  the  same,  old  chum.  May  you  conquer  Boston 
and  all  the  Pilgrim  Fathers !  " 

"  Thanks.  The  vision  of  one  of  them  disturbs  my 
dreams.  One  will  be  enough." 

Then  followed  six  golden  days  on  the  banks  of  the 
Catawba.  Every  day  he  insisted  with  boyish  enthusiasm 
on  returning  to  that  rock  and  seating  her  on  her  throne. 
He  called  her  his  queen,  and  worshipped  at  her  feet. 

He  had  the  friendliest  little  chat  with  her  mother,  and 
told  her  how  he  loved  her  daughter  and  hoped  for  her 


The  Music  of  the  Milk  379 

approval.  She  answered  with  frankness  that  she  was 
glad,  and  would  love  him  as  her  own  son,  but  that  she 
disapproved  of  kissing  and  extravagant  love-making 
until  they  were  ready  to  be  married,  and  their  engage- 
ment duly  announced. 

So  he  could  only  hold  Sallie's  hand  and  kiss  the  tips 
of  her  fingers  and  the  little  dimples  where  they  joined 
the  hand,  and  sometimes  he  would  hold  it  against  his 
own  cheek  while  she  smiled  at  him. 

But  when  they  rode  homeward  one  evening  he  dared 
to  put  his  arm  behind  her,  high  on  the  phaeton's  leather 
cushion,  as  they  were  going  down  a  hill,  and  then  lowered 
it  a  little  as  they  started  up  the  grade.  She  leaned  back 
and  found  it  there.  At  first  she  nestled  against  it  very 
timidly  and  then  trustingly.  She  looked  into  his  face 
and  both  smiled. 

"  Isn't  that  nice,  Sallie?" 

"  Yes,  it  is, — I  don't  think  Mama  would  mind  that, 
do  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  Well,  I  never  promised  not  to  lean  back  in  a  phaeton, 
did  I?" 

"  Certainly  not,  and  it's  all  right." 

Toward  the  end  of  the  week  the  General  began  to  show 
him  a  grave  friendly  interest.  He  invited  Gaston  to  go 
over  the  mills  with  him.  The  mills  were  located  back 
of  the  wooded  cliffs  a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  river. 
There  were  now  four  magnificent  brick  buildings  stretch- 
ing out  over  the  river  bottoms  at  right  angles  to  its  cur- 
rent. And  there  was  a  big  dye  house,  a  ginning  house 
and  a  cotton-seed  oil  mill.  The  General  stood  on  the  hill 
top  and  proudly  pointed  it  out  to  him. 

"  Isn't  that  a  grand  sight,  young  man !  We  employ 
2,000  hands  down  there,  and  consume  hundreds  of  bales 
of  cotton  a  day.  We  began  here  after  the  war  without 


The  Leopard's  Spots 

a  cent,  except  our  faith,  and  this  magnificent  water 
power.  Now  look !  " 

"  You  have  certainly  done  a  great  work,'*  said  Gas- 
ton,  "  I  had  no  idea  you  had  so  many  industries  in  the 
enclosure." 

"  Yes,  I  sit  down  here  on  the  hill  some  nights  in  the 
moonlight  and  look  into  this  valley,  and  the  hum  of  that 
machinery  is  like  ravishing  music.  The  machinery  seems 
to  me  to  be  a  living  thing,  with  millions  of  fingers  of 
steel  and  a  great  throbbing  soul.  I  dream  of  the  day 
when  those  swift  fingers  will  weave  their  fabrics  of  gold 
and  clothe  the  whole  South  in  splendour! — the  South  I 
love,  and  for  which  I  fought,  and  have  yearned  over 
through  all  these  years.  Ah!  young  man,  I  wish  you 
boys  of  brain  and  genius  would  quit  throwing  yourselves 
away  in  law  and  dirty  politics,  and  devote  your  powers 
to  the  South's  development !  " 

"  Yes,  but  General,  the  people  of  the  South  had  to  go 
into  politics  instead  of  business  on  account  of  the  en- 
franchisement of  the  Negro.  It  was  a  matter  of  life  and 
death." 

"  I  didn't  do  it," 

"  No,  sir,  but  others  did  for  you/* 

"  How  ?  "  he  asked  incredulously,  with  just  a  touch  of 
wounded  pride, 

"  Well  how  many  negroes  do  you  employ  in  these  mills  ?" 

"  None.  We  don't  allow  a  negro  to  come  inside  the 
enclosure," 

"  Precisely  so.  You  have  prospered  because  you  have 
got  rid  of  the  Negro  " 

"  I've  simply  let  the  Negro  alone.  Let  others  do  the 
same." 

"  But  everybody  can't  do  it.  There  are  now  nine  mil- 
lions of  them.  You've  simply  shifted  the  burden  on 
others'  shoulders.  You  haven't  solved  the  problem." 


The  Music  of  the  Milk  281 

"  If  we  had  less  politics  and  more  business,  we  would 
be  better  off." 

"  But  the  trouble  is,  General,  we  can't  have  more  busi- 
ness until  politics  have  settled  some  things." 

"  Bah !  You're  throwing  yourself  away  in  politics, 
young  man!  There's  nothing  in  it  but  dirt  and  disap- 
pointment." 

"  To  me,  sir,  politics  is  a  religion/' 

"  Religion  !  Politics !  I  didn't  know  you  could  ever 
mix  'em.  I  thought  they  were  about  as  far  apart  as 
heaven  is  from  hell !  "  exclaimed  the  General. 

"  They  ought  not  to  be,  sir,  whatever  the  terrible  facts, 
I  believe  that  the  Government  is  the  organised  virtue  of 
the  community,  and  that  politics  is  religion  in  action.  It 
may  be  a  poor  sort  of  religion,  but  it  is  the  best  we  are 
capable  of  as  members  of  society." 

"  Well,  that's  a  new  idea," 

"  It's  coming  to  be  more  and  more  recognised  by 
thoughtful  men,  General.  I  believe  that  the  State  is  now 
the  only  organ  through  which  the  whole  people  can 
search  for  righteousness,  and  that  the  progress  of  the 
world  depends  more  than  ever  on  its  integrity  and 
purity/' 

"  Well,  you've  cut  out  a  big  job  for  yourself,  if  that's 
your  ideal.  My  idea  of  politics  is  a  pig  pen.  The 
way  to  clean  it  is  to  kill  the  pigs," 

Gaston  laughed  and  shook  his  head. 

When  they  returned  from  the  mills,  Mrs,  Worth  drew 
the  General  into  her  room0 

"  Did  he  ask  you  for  Sallie?  " 

"  No,  the  young  galoot  never  mentioned  her  name.  I 
thought  he  would.  But  I  must  have  scared  him." 

"  You  didn't  quarrel  over  anything?  " 

"  No !    But  I  found  out  he  had  a  mind  of  his  own.** 

"  So  have  you,  sir." 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  FIRST  KISS 

6 6 "WIT  THY  didn't  you  ask  him  yesterday?"  cried 
%/%/  Sal  lie,  as  she  entered  the  parlour  the  next 
morning. 

"  Darling,  I  was  scared  out  of  my  wits.  We  got 
crossways  on  some  questions  we  were  discussing,  and 
he  snorted  at  me  once,  and  every  time  I  tried  to  screw 
up  my  courage  to  speak,  a  lump  got  in  my  throat  and  I 
gave  it  up.  I  thought  I'd  wait  a  day  or  two  until  he 
should  be  in  a  better  humour." 

"  He's  gone  away  to-day,"  she  said  with  disappoint- 
ment. 

"  I'm  glad  of  it,  I'll  write  him  a  letter." 

"  If  you  had  asked  him  yesterday  it  would  have  been 
all  right.  He  told  me  so  when  he  left  this  morning,  with 
a  very  tender  tremor  in  his  voice." 

"  But  it  will  be  all  right,  sweetheart,  when  I  write." 

"  I  wanted  my  ring,"  she  whispered. 

"  You  shall  have  it,"  he  said,  as  he  seized  her  hand  and 
led  her  to  a  seat. 

"  Have  you  got  it  with  you  ?  "  she  asked  with  excite- 
ment. "  Let  me  see  it  quick." 

He  drew  the  little  box  from  his  pocket,  withdrew  the 
ring,  concealing  it  in  his  hand,  slipped  it  on  her  finger 
and  kissed  it.  She  threw  her  hand  up  into  the  light  to 
see  it. 

"  Oh  I  it  is  glorious !    It's  the  big  green  diamond  Hid- 


The  First  Kiss  283 

denite  I  saw  at  the  Exposition !  It  is  the  most  beautiful 
stone  I  ever  saw,  and  the  only  one  of  its  kind  in  size  and 
colour  in  the  world.  Professor  Hidden  told  me  so.  I 
tried  to  get  Papa  to  buy  it  for  me.  But  he  laughed  at 
me,  and  said  it  was  childish  extravagance.  Charlie  dear, 
how  could  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  That's  a  little  secret.  But  there  are  to  be  no  secrets 
between  us  any  more.  I  had  a  little  hoard  saved  from  my 
mother's  estate  for  the  greatest  need  of  my  life.  I  con- 
fess my  extravagance." 

"  You  are  a  matchless  lover.  I'm  the  proudest  and 
happiest  girl  that  breathes." 

"  Nothing  is  too  good  for  you,  I  wish  I  could  make  a 
greater  sacrifice." 

"  Wait,  till  I  show  it  to  Mama,"  and  she  flew  to  her 
mother's  room.  She  returned  immediately,  looking  at 
the  ring  and  kissing  it. 

"  Couldn't  show  it  to  her,  she  had  company,"  she  said. 
"  Allan  is  talking  to  her." 

"  Let's  get  out  of  the  house,  dear.  I  hate  that  man 
like  a  rattlesnake." 

"  Don't  be  silly,  I  never  cared  a  snap  for  him." 

"  I  know  you  didn't,  but  there  is  a  poison  about  him  that 
taints  the  air  for  me.  Get  your  horse  and  let's  go  to 
our  place  at  the  old  mill." 

They  soon  reached  the  spot,  and  with  a  laugh  she 
sprang  upon  the  rock  and  took  her  seat  against  the  tree. 

"  Now,  dear,  humour  this  whim  of  mine.  I've  grown 
superstitious  since  you've  made  me  happy.  I  have  a  pre- 
sentiment of  evil  because  that  man  was  in  the  house.  I 
am  going  to  take  the  ring  off  and  put  it  on  your  hand 
again  out  here  where  only  the  eyes  of  our  birds  will  see, 
and  the  river  we  love  will  hear." 

"  That  will  be  nicer.  I  somehow  feel  that  my  life  is 
^  built  on  this  dear  old  rock,"  she  answered  soberly. 


284  The  Leopard's  Spots 

He  took  the  ring  off  her  finger,  dipped  it  in  the  white 
foam  of  the  river,  kissed  it,  and  placed  it  on  her  hand. 

"  Now  the  spell  is  broken,  isn't  it  ?  "  she  cried,  holding 
it  out  in  the  sunlight  a  moment  to  catch  the  flash  of  its 
green  diamond  depth. 

"  I've  another  token  for  you.  This,  you  will  not  even 
show  to  your  mother  or  father."  She  bent  low  over  a 
tiny  package  he  unfolded. 

"  This  is  the  first  medal  I  won  at  college,"  he  con- 
tinued— "  the  first  victory  of  my  life.  It  was  the  force 
that  determined  my  character.  It  gave  me  an  inflexible 
will.  I  worked  at  a  tremendous  disadvantage.  Others 
were  two  years  ahead  of  me  in  study  for  the  contest.  I 
locked  myself  up  in  my  room  day  and  night  for  ten 
months,  and  took  just  enough  food  and  sleep  for  strength 
to  work.  I  worked  seventeen  hours  a  day,  except  Sun- 
days, for  ten  months  without  an  hour  of  play.  I  won 
it  brilliantly.  Every  line  cut  on  its  gold  surface  stands 
for  a  thousand  aches  of  my  body.  Every  little  pearl  set 
in  it,  grew  in  a  pain  of  that  struggle  which  set  its  seal  on 
my  inmost  life.  I  came  out  of  those  ten  months  a  man. 
I  have  never  known  the  whims  of  a  boy  since." 

"  And  you  engraved  something  on  the  back  to  me  I  " 

"  Yes,  can't  you  read  it  ?  " 

"  My  eyes  are  dim,"  she  whispered. 

"  It  is  this — In  the  hand  of  manhood's  tenderest  love 
I  bring  to  thee  my  boyhood's  brightest  dream.  I  was  a 
man  when  I  woke,  but  I  have  never  lived  till  you  taught 
me.  Keep  this  as  a  pledge  of  eternal  love.  It's  the  only 
little  trinket  I  ever  possessed.  The  world  will  see  our 
ring.  Don't  let  them  see  this.  It  is  the  seal  of  your 
sovereignty  of  my  soul  in  life,  in  death,  and  beyond. 
Will  you  make  me  this  eternal  pledge  ?  " 

"  Unto  the  uttermost !  "  she  murmured. 

"  Unto  the  uttermost !  "  he  solemnly  echoed. 


The  First  Kiss  285 

"And  now,  what  can  I  say  or  do  for  you  when  you 
show  me  in  this  spirit  of  prodigal  sacrifice  how  dear  I 
am  in  your  eyes  ?  " 

"  Those  words  from  your  lips  are  enough,"  he  declared. 

"  111  give  you  more.  I'm  going  to  give  you  just  a  little 
bit  of  myself.  I  haven't  asked  Mama,  but  we  are  en- 
gaged now — come  closer." 

She  placed  her  beautiful  arms  around  his  neck  and 
pressed  her  lips  upon  his  in  the  first  rapturous  kiss  of 
love. 

"  No, — no  more.    It  is  enough,"  she  protested. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
A  MYSTERIOUS  LETTER 

HE  was  at  home  now,  waiting  impatiently  for  the 
General's  answer  to  his  letter.    Two  weeks  had 
passed  and  he  had  not  received  it.     But  she 
had  explained  in  her  letters  that  her  father  had  returned 
the  day  he  left,  had  a  talk  with  McLeod,  and  left  on 
important  business.     They  were  expecting  his  return  at 
any  moment. 

It  was  a  new  revelation  of  life  he  found  in  their  first 
love  letters.  He  never  knew  that  he  could  write  before. 
He  sat  for  hours  at  his  desk  in  his  law  office  and  poured 
out  to  her  his  dreams,  hopes  and  ambitions.  All  the 
poetry  of  youth,  and  the  passion  and  beauty  of  life,  he 
put  into  those  letters. 

He  wrote  to  her  every  day  and  she  answered  every 
other  day.  She  wrote  in  half  tearful  apology  that  her 
mother  disapproved  of  a  daily  letter,  and  she  added  wist- 
fully, "  I  should  like  to  write  to  you  twice  a  day.  Take 
the  will  for  the  deed,  and  as  you  love  me,  be  sure  to 
continue  yours  daily." 

And  on  the  days  the  letter  came,  with  eager  trembling 
hands  he  seized  it,  without  waiting  for  -the  rest  of  his 
mail  or  his  papers.  With  set  face,  and  quick  nervous 
step,  he  would  mount  the  stairs  to  his  office,  lock  his  door 
and  sit  down  to  devour  it.  He  would  hold  it  in  his  hands 
sometimes  for  ten  minutes  just  to  laugh  and  muse  over  it 
and  try  to  guess  what  new  trick  of  phrase  she  had  used 


A  Mysterious  Letter  287 

to  express  her  love.  He  was  surprised  at  her  brilliance 
and  wit.  He  had  not  held  her  so  deep  a  thinker  on  the 
serious  things  of  life  as  these  letters  had  showed,  nor 
had  he  noticed  how  keen  her  sense  of  humour.  He 
was  so  busy  looking  at  her  beautiful  face,  and  drink- 
ing the  love-light  from  her  eyes,  he  had  overlooked  these 
things  when  with  her.  Now  they  flashed  on  him  as  a 
new  treasure,  that  would  enrich  his  life. 

At  the  end  of  two  weeks  when  the  General  had  not 
answered  his  letter  he  began  to  grow  nervous.  A  vague 
feeling  of  fear  grew  on  him.  Something  had  happened 
to  darken  his  future.  He  felt  it  by  a  subtle  telepathy  of 
sympathetic  thought.  He  was  gloomy  and  depressed  all 
day  after  he  had  received  and  feasted  on  the  wittiest 
letter  she  had  ever  written.  What  could  it  mean 
he  asked  himself  a  thousand  times — some  shadow  had 
fallen  across  their  lives.  He  knew  it  as  clearly  as  if  the 
revelation  of  its  misery  were  already  unfolded. 

He  went  to  the  post-office  on  the  next  day  he  was  to 
receive  a  letter,  crushed  with  a  sense  of  foreboding.  He 
waited  until  the  mail  was  all  distributed  and  the  general 
delivery  window  flung  open  before  he  approached  his 
box.  He  was  afraid  to  look  at  her  letter.  He  slowly 
opened  the  box. 

There  was  nothing  in  it ! 

"  Sam,  you're  not  holding  out  my  letter  to  tease  me, 
old  boy  ?  "  he  asked  pathetically. 

Sam  was  about  to  joke  him  about  the  uncertainties  ot 
love,  when  his  eye  rested  on  his  drawn  face. 

"  Lord  no,  Charlie,"  he  protested,  "  you  know  I 
wouldn't  treat  you  like  that." 

"  Then  look  again,  you  may  have  dropped  it/" 

Sam  turned  and  looked  carefully  over  the  floor,  over 
and  under  his  desks  and  tables  and  returned. 

"  No,  but  it  may  have  been  thrown  into  the  wrong  bag 


288  The  Leopard's  Spots 

by  that  fool  mail  clerk  on  the  train.  You  may  get  it 
to-morrow." 

He  turned  away  and  walked  to  his  office,  forgetting 
his  key  in  the  open  box.  The  vague  sense  of  calamity 
that  weighed  on  his  heart  for  the  past  two  days,  now 
became  a  reality. 

He  sat  in  his  office  all  the  afternoon  in  a  dull  stupor 
of  suspense.  He  tried  to  read  her  last  letter  over.  But 
the  pages  would  get  blurred  and  fade  out  of  sight,  and 
he  would  wake  to  find  he  had  been  staring  at  one  sentence 
for  an  hour. 

He  knew  his  foster  mother  would  be  all  sympathy  and 
tenderness  if  he  told  her,  but  somehow  he  hadn't  the 
heart.  She  had  led  him  to  his  love.  He  had  been  so 
boyishly  and  frankly  happy  boasting  to  her  of  his 
success,  he  sickened  at  the  thought  of  telling  her.  He 
went  out  for  a  walk  in  the  woods,  and  lay  down  alone 
beside  a  brook  like  a  wounded  animal. 

The  next  day  he  watched  his  box  again  with  the  hope 
that  Sam's  guess  might  be  right,  and  the  missing  letter 
would  come.  But,  instead  of  the  big  square-cut  envelope 
he  had  waited  for,  he  received  a  bulky  letter  in  an  old- 
fashioned  masculine  handwriting  with  the  post  mark  of 
Independence,  and  a  mill  mark  in  the  upper  left  hand 
corner. 

He  did  not  have  to  look  twice  at  that  letter.  It  was  the 
sealed  verdict  of  his  jury.  He  locked  his  office  door. 
It  was  long  and  rambling,  full  of  a  kindly  sympathy  ex- 
pressed in  a  restrained  manner.  He  could  not  believe  at 
first  that  so  outspoken  a  man  as  the  General  could  have 
written  it.  The  substance  of  its  meaning,  however,  was 
plain  enough.  He  meant  to  say  that  as  he  was  not  in  a 
position  to  make  a  suitable  home  at  present  for  a  wife, 
and  as  he  disapproved  of  long  engagements,  it  seemed 


A  Mysterious  Letter  289 

better  that  no  engagement  should  be  entered  into  or 
announced. 

He  stared  at  this  letter  for  an  hour,  trying  to  grasp 
the  mystery  that  lay  back  of  its  halting,  half-contradic- 
tory sentences.  He  did  not  know  till  long  afterwards 
that  the  General  had  written  it  with  two  blue  eyes  tear- 
fully watching  him,  and  waiting  to  read  it ;  that  now  and 
then  there  was  the  sound  of  a  great  sob,  and  two  arms 
were  around  his  neck,  and  a  still  white  face  lying  on 
his  shoulder,  and  that  tears  had  washed  all  the  harsh- 
ness and  emphasis  out  of  what  he  had  meant  to  write, 
and  all  but  blotted  out  any  meaning  to  what  he  did  write. 

But  withal  it  was  clear  enough  in  its  import.  It  meant 
that  the  General  had  haltingly  but  authoritatively  denied 
his  suit.  He  instantly  made  up  his  mind  to  ask  an  inter- 
view at  his  home,  and  know  plainly  all  his  reasons  for 
this  change  of  attitude.  He  wrote  his  letter  and  posted 
it  immediately  by  return  mail.  He  knew  that  the  request 
would  precipitate  a  crisis,  and  he  trembled  at  the  out- 
come. Either  her  father  would  hesitate  and  receive  him, 
or  end  it  with  a  crash  of  his  imperious  will. 


CHAPTER  XV 
A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK 

THE  noon  mail  brought  Gaston  no  answer.  At 
night  he  felt  sure  it  would  come. 
When  the  wagon  dashed  up  to  the  post-office 
that  night  it  was  fifteen  minutes  late.  He  was  walking 
up  and  down  the  street  on  the  opposite  pavement  along 
the  square,  keeping  under  the  shadows  of  the  trees.  He 
turned,  quickly  crossed  the  street,  and  stood  inside  the 
office,  listening  with  a  feeling  of  strange  abstraction  to 
the  tramp  of  the  postmaster's  feet  back  and  forth  as  he 
distributed  the  mail.  He  never  knew  before  what  a 
tragedy  might  be  concealed  in  the  thrust  of  a  bit  of  folded 
paper  into  a  tiny  glass-eyed  box.  As  he  waited,  fearing 
to  face  his  fate,  he  remembered  the  pathetic  figure  of  a 
grey-haired  old  man  who  stood  there  one  day  hanging 
on  that  desk  softly  talking  to  himself.  He  was  a  stranger 
at  the  Springs,  and  they  were  alone  in  the  office  together. 
Now  and  then  he  brushed  a  tear  from  his  eyes,  glanced 
timidly  at  the  window  of  the  general  delivery,  starting  at 
every  quick  movement  inside  as  though  afraid  the  win- 
dow had  opened.  Gaston  had  gone  up  close  to  the  old 
man,  drawn  by  the  look  of  anguish  in  his  dignified  face. 
The  stranger  intuitively  recognised  the  sympathy  of  the 
movement,  and  explained  tremblingly :  "  My  son,  I  am 
waiting  for  a  message  of  life  or  death  " — he  faltered, 
seized  his  hand,  adding,  "and  Tm  afraid  to  see 
it!" 

290 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  291 

Just  then  the  window  opened  and  he  clutched  his  arm 
and  gasped,  with  dilated  staring  eyes, 

"  There,  there  it's  come !  You  go  for  me,  my  son,  and 
ask  while  I  pray! — I'm  afraid."  How  well  Gaston  re- 
membered now  with  what  trembling  eagerness  the  old 
man  had  broken  the  seal,  and  then  stood  with  head 
bowed  low,  crying, 

"  I  thank  and  bless  thee,  oh,  Mother  of  Jesus,  for  this 
hour !  "  And  looking  up  into  his  face  with  tear-stream- 
ing eyes  he  cried  in  a  rich  low  voice  like  tender  music, 

"  How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  bring  glad 
tidings !  " 

He  could  feel  now  the  warm  pressure  of  his  hand  as 
he  walked  out  of  the  office  with  him. 

How  vividly  the  whole  scene  came  rushing  over  him! 
He  thought  he  sympathised  with  his  old  friend  that 
night,  but  now  he  entered  into  the  fellowship  of  his 
sorrow.  Now  he  knew. 

At  last  he  drew  himself  up,  walked  to  his  box  and 
opened  it.  His  heart  leaped .  A  big  square-cut  envelope 
lay  in  it,  addressed  to  him  in  her  own  beautiful  hand .  He 
snatched  it  out  and  hurried  to  his  office.  The  moment 
he  touched  it,  his  heart  sank.  It  was  light  and 
thin.  Evidently  there  was  but  a  single  sheet  of  paper 
within. 

He  tore  it  open  and  stared  at  it  with  parted  lips  and 
half-seeing  eyes.  The  first  word  struck  his  soul  with  a 
deadly  chill.  This  was  what  he  read : 

"  MY  DEAR  MR.  GASTON  : 

I  write  in  obedience  to  the  wishes  of  my  parents  to 
say  our  engagement  must  end  and  our  correspondence 
cease.  I  can  not  explain  to  you  the  reasons  for  this.  I 
have  acquiesced  in  their  judgment,  that  it  is  best. 

I  return  /our  letters  by  to-morrow's  mail,  and  Mama 


292  The  Leopard's  Spots 

requests    that    you    return    mine    to    her    at    Oakwood 
immediately. 

I  leave  to-night  on  the  Limited  for  Atlanta  where 
I  join  a  friend.  We  go  to  Savannah,  and  thence  by 
steamer  to  Boston  where  I  shall  visit  Helen  for  a  month. 

Sincerely, 

SALLJE  WORTH." 

For  a  long  time  he  looked  at  the  letter  in  a  stupor  of 
amazement.  That  her  father  could  coerce  her  hand  into 
writing  such  a  brutal  commonplace  note  was  a  revelation 
of  his  power  he  had  never  dreamed.  And  then  his  anger 
began  to  rise.  His  fighting  blood  from  soldier  ancestors 
made  his  nerves  tingle  at  this  challenge. 

He  took  up  the  letter  and  read  it  again  curiously  study- 
ing each  word.  He  opened  the  folded  sheet  hoping  to 
find  some  detached  message.  There  was  nothing  inside. 
But  he  noticed  on  the  other  side  of  the  sheet  a  lot  of  in- 
dentures as  though  made  by  the  end  of  a  needle.  He 
turned  it  back  and  studied  these  dots  under  different 
letters  in  the  words  made  by  the  needle  points.  He 
spelled, — 

"  My  Darling— Unto  the  Uttermost !  " 

And  then  he  covered  the  note  with  kisses,  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  looked  at  his  watch. 

It  was  now  ten-thirty.  The  Limited  left  Independ- 
ence at  eleven  o'clock  and  made  no  stops  for  the  first 
hundred  miles  toward  Atlanta.  But  just  to  the  south 
where  the  railroad  skirted  the  foot  of  King's  Mountain, 
there  was  a  water  tank  on  the  mountain  side  where  he 
knew  the  train  stopped  for  water  about  midnight. 

With  a  fast  horse  he  could  make  the  eighteen  miles 
and  board  the  Limited  at  this  water  station.  The  only 
danger  was  if  the  sky  should  cloud  over  and  the  star- 
light be  lost  it  would  be  difficult  to  keep  in  the  narrow 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  293 

road  that  wound  over  the  semi-mountainous  hills,  densely 
wooded,  that  must  be  crossed  to  make  it. 

"  I'll  try  it!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Yes,  I  will  do  it! "  he 
added  setting  his  teeth.  "  I'll  make  that  train." 

He  got  the  best  horse  he  could  find  in  the  livery  stable, 
saw  that  his  saddle  girths  were  strong,  sprang  on  and 
galloped  toward  the  south.  It  was  a  quarter  to  eleven 
when  he  started,  and  it  seemed  a  doubtful  undertaking. 
The  Limited  would  make  the  run  from  Independence, 
fifty-two  miles,  in  an  hour  at  the  most.  If  she  were  on 
time  it  would  be  a  close  shave  for  him  to  make  the  eigh- 
teen miles. 

The  sky  clouded  slightly  before  he  reached  the  moun- 
tain. In  spite  of  his  vigilance  he  lost  his  way  and  had 
gone  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  a  rift  in  the  cloud  showed 
him  the  north  star  suddenly,  and  he  found  he  had  taken 
the  wrong  road  at  the  crossing  and  was  going  straight 
back  home. 

Wheeling  his  horse,  he  put  spurs  to  him,  and  dashed 
at  full  speed  back  through  the  dense  woods. 

Just  as  he  got  within  a  mile  of  the  tank  he  heard  the 
train  blow  for  the  bridge-crossing  at  the  river  near  by. 

"  Now,  my  boy,"  he  cried  to  his  horse,  patting  him. 
"  "Now  your  level  best !  " 

The  horse  responded  with  a  spurt  of  desperate  speed. 
He  had  a  way  of  handling  a  horse  that  the  animal  re- 
sponded to  with  almost  human  sympathy  and  intelligence. 
He  seemed  to  breathe  his  own  will  into  the  horse's  spirit. 
He  flew  over  the  ground,  and  reached  the  train  just  as 
the  fireman  cut  off  the  water  and  the  engineer  tapped  his' 
bell  to  start. 

He  flung  his  horse's  rein  over  a  hitching  post  that  stood 
near  the  silent  little  station-house,  rushed  to  the  track, 
and  sprang  on  the  day  coach  as  it  passed. 

He  had  intended  to  ride  fifty  miles  on  this  train,  see  his 


294  The  Leopard's  Spots 

sweetheart  face  to  face — learn  the  truth  from  her  own 
lips — and  then  return  on  the  up-train.  He  hoped  to  ride 
back  to  Hambright  before  day  and  keep  the  fact  of  his 
trip  a  secret. 

Now  a  new  difficulty  arose — a  very  simple  one — that  he 
had  not  thought  of  for  a  moment.  She  was  in  a  Pullman 
sleeper  of  course,  and  asleep. 

There  were  three  sleepers,  one  for  Atlanta,  one  for 
New  Orleans,  and  one  for  Memphis.  He  hoped  she  was 
in  the  Atlanta  sleeper  as  that  was  her  destination,  though 
if  that  were  crowded  in  its  lower  berths  she  might  be  in 
either  of  the  others.  But  how  under  heaven  could  he 
locate  her?  The  porter  probably  would  not  know  her. 

He  was  puzzled.  The  conductor  approached  and  he 
paid  his  fare  to  the  next  stop,  fifty  miles. 

"  I've  an  important  message  for  a  passenger  in  one  of 
these  sleepers,  Captain,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  have  ridden 
across  the  mountains  to  catch  the  train  here." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  the  genial  conductor.  "  Go  right 
in  and  deliver  it.  You  look  like  you  had  a  tussle  to  get 
here." 

"  It  was  a  close  shave,"  Gaston  replied. 

He  stepped  into  the  Atlanta  sleeper  and  encountered 
the  dusky  potentate  who  presided  over  its  aisles. 

The  porter  looked  up  from  the  shoes  he  was  shining 
at  Gaston's  dishevelled  hair  and  gave  him  no  welcome. 

Gaston  dropped  a  half  dollar  into  his  hand  and  the 
porter  dropped  the  shoes  and  grinned  a  royal  welcome, 

"  Any  ting  I  kin  do  f er  ye  boss  ?  " 

"Got  any  ladies  on  your  car?" 

"  Yassir,  three  un  'em." 

"Young,  or  old?" 

"  One  young  un,  en  two  ole  uns." 

"  Did  the  young  lady  get  on  at  Independence?* 

"  Yassir." 


A  Blow  in  rhe  Dark  295 

"Going  to  Atlanta?" 

"  Yassir." 

"Is  she  very  beautiful?" 

"  Boss,  she's  de  purtiess  young  lady  I  eber  laid  my  eyes 
on — but  look  lak  she  been  cryin'." 

"  Then  I  want  you  to  wake  her.     I  must  see  her." 

"  Lordy  boss,  I  cain  do  dat.    Hit  ergin  de  rules." 

"  But,  I'm  bound  to  see  her.  I've  ridden  eighteen 
miles  across  the  mountains  and  scratched  my  face  all  to 
pieces  rushing  through  those  woods.  I've  a  message  of 
the  utmost  importance  for  her." 

"  Cain  do  hit  boss,  hits  ergin  de  rules.  But  you  can 
go  wake  her  yoself,  ef  you'se  er  mind  ter.  I  cain  keep 
you  fum  it.  She's  dar  in  number  seben." 

Gaston  hesitated.  "  No,  you  must  wake  her,"  he  in- 
sisted, dropping  another  half  dollar  in  the  porter's  hand. 

The  porter  got  up  with  a  grin.  He  felt  he  must  rise 
to  a  great  occasion. 

"  Well,  I  des  fumble  roun'  de  berth  en  mebbe  she  wake 
herse'f,  en  den  I  tell  her." 

Just  then  the  electric  bell  overhead  rang  and  the  index 
pointed  to  7.  "  Dar  now,  dat's  her  callin'  me,  sho !  " 

He  approached  the  berth.  "  What  kin  I  do  fur  ye 
M'am?"  he  whispered. 

"  Porter,  who  is  that  you  are  talking  to  ?  It  sounds 
like  some  one  I  know." 

"  Yassum,  hit's  young  gent  name  er  Gaston,  jump  oh 
bode  at  the  water  station — say  he  got  'portant  message 
fur  you." 

"  Tell  him  I  will  see  him  in  a  moment." 

The  porter  returned  with  the  message, 

"  You  des  wait  in  dar,  in  number  one — hits  not  made 
up — twell  she  come,"  he  added. 

There  was  the  soft  rustle  of  a  dressing  gown — he 
sprang  to  his  feet,  clasped  her  hand  passionately,  kissed 


296  The  Leopard's  Spots 

it,  and  silently  she  took  her  seat  by  his  side.  He  still 
held  her  hand,  and  she  pressed  his  gently  in  response. 
He  saw  that  she  was  crying,  and  his  heart  was  too  full 
for  words  for  a  moment. 

He  looked  long  and  wistfully  in  her  face.  In  her  di- 
shevelled hair  by  the  dim  light  of  the  car  he  thought  her 
more  beautiful  than  ever.  At  last  she  brushed  the  tears 
from  her  eyes  and  turned  her  face  full  on  his  with  a  sad' 
smile. 

"  My  own  dear  love !  "  she  sobbed,  "  I  prayed  that  I 
might  see  you  somehow  before  I  left.  I  was  wide  awake 
when  I  first  heard  the  distant  murmur  of  your  voice. 
Oh !  I  am  so  glad  you  came !  "  and  she  pressed  his 
hand. 

"  I  got  your  letter  at  ten-thirty  " — 

"  Oh !  that  awful  letter !  How  I  cried  over  it.  Papa 
made  me  write  it,  and  read  and  mailed  it  himself.  But 
you  saw  my  message  between  the  lines  ?  " 

"Yes,  and^then  I  covered  it  with  kisses.  But  what 
is. the  cause  of  this  sudden  change  of  the  General  toward 
me?  What  have  I  done?" 

"  Please  don't  ask  me.  I  can't  tell  you,"  she  sobbed 
lowering  her  face  a  moment  to  his  hand  and  kissing  it. 
"  Don't  ask  me." 

"  But,  my  dear,  I  must  know.  There  can  be  no  secrets 
between  us." 

"  My  lips  will  never  tell  you.  There  have  been  a  thou- 
sand slanders  breathed  against  you.  I  met  them  with 
fury  and  scorn,  and  no  one  has  dared  repeat  them  in  my 
hearing.  I  would  not  pollute  my  lips  by  repeating  one 
of  them." 

"  But  who  is  their  author?  " 

"  I  can  not  tell  you.  I  promised  Mama  I  wouldn't.  She 
loves  you,  and  she  is  on  our  side,  but  said  it  was  best. 
Papa  has  made  up  his  mind  to  break  our  engagement  for- 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  297 

ever.  And  I  defied  him.  We  had  a  scene.  I  didn't  know 
I  had  the  strength  of  will  that  came  to  me.  I  said  some 
terrible  things  to  him,  and  he  said  some  very  cruel  things 
to  me.  Poor  Mama  was  prostrated.  Her  heart  is  weak, 
and  I  only  yielded  at  last  as  far  as  I  have  because  of  her 
tears  and  suffering.  I  could  not  endure  her  pleadings. 
So  I  promised  to  do  as  he  wished  for  the  present,  leave 
for  Boston,  and  cease  to  write  to  you." 

"  My  love,  I  must  know  my  enemy  to  meet  him  and 
face  the  issues  he  raises.  I  can  not  be  strangled  in  the 
dark  like  this." 

"  You  will  find  it  out  soon  enough,  I  can  not  tell  you," 
she  repeated.  "  I  only  ask  you  to  trust  me,  in  this  the 
darkest  hour  that  has  ever  come  to  my  life.  You  will 
trust  me,  will  you  not,  dear  ?  "  she  pleaded. 

"  I  have  trusted  you  with  my  immortal  soul.  You 
know  this." 

"  Yes,  yes,  dear,  I  do.  Then  you  can  love  and  trust 
me  without  a  letter  or  a  word  between  us  until  Mama 
is  better  and  I  can  get  her  consent  to  write  to  you?  Oh, 
I  never  knew  how  tenderly  and  desperately  I  love  you 
until  this  shadow  came  over  our  lives !  No  power  shall 
ever  separate  us  when  the  final  test  conies,  unless  you 
shall  grow  weary." 

"  Do  not  say  that,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  love  you  with 
a  love  that  has  brought  me  out  of  the  shadows  and 
shown  me  the  face  of  God.  Death  shall  not  bring  weari- 
ness. But  I  dread  with  a  sickening  fear  the  efforts  they 
will  make  to  plunge  you  into  the  whirl  of  frivolous 
society.  I  shall  be  a  lonely  beggar  a  thousand  miles 
away  with  not  one  friendly  face  near  you  to  plead  my 
cause." 

"  Hush !  "  she  broke  in  upon  him.  "  You  are  for  me 
the  one  living  presence.  You  are  always  near — oh  so 
near,  closer  than  breathing  1  " 


298  The  Leopards  Spots 

The  roar  of  the  train  became  sonorous  with  the  vibra- 
tion of  a  great  bridge.  He  started  and  looked  at  his 
watch. 

"  We  are  more  than  half  way  to  the  stop  where  I  muse 
leave  you  and  return." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  here  ?  " 

"  Over  a  half  hour.  It  does  not  seem  two  minutes. 
Only  a  few  minutes  more  face  to  face,  and  all  life  crowd- 
ing for  utterance !  How  can  I  choose  what  to  say,  when 
my  tongue  only  desires  to  say  /  love  you!  Bend  near 
and  whisper  to  me  again  your  love  vow,"  he  cried  in 
trembling  accents. 

Close  to  his  ear  she  placed  her  lips,  holding  fast  his 
hand  whispering  again  and  again,  "  My  own  dear  love 
— unto  the  uttermost .  In  life,  in  death,  forever !  " 

He  bent  again  and  pressed  his  lips  on  her  hand  and 
she  felt  the  hot  tears. 

*'  And  now,  love,  conies  the  hardest  thing  of  all,"  she 
sobbed,  "  I  must  return  to  you  my  ring." 

"  For  God's  sake  keep  it !  "  he  pleaded. 

"  No,  I  promised  Mama  for  peace  sake  I  would  return 
it.  She  is  very  weak.  I  could  not  dare  to  hurt  her 
now  with  a  broken  promise.  She  may  not  live  long.  I 
could  never  forgive  myself.  Keep  it  for  me,  dear,  until 
I  can  wear  it." 

She  placed  it  in  his  hand  and  it  burnt  like  a  red  hot 
coal.  He  placed  it  in  an  inside  pocket  next  to  his  heart. 
It  felt  like  a  huge  millstone  crushing  him.  A  lump  rose 
in  his  throat  and  choked  him  until  he  gasped  for 
breath. 

She  looked  at  him  pathet'cally  and  saw  his  anguish. 

"  Come,  my  love,"  she  pleaded  reproachfully,  "  you 
must  not  make  it  harder  for  me.  You  are  a  man.  You 
are  stronger  than  I  am.  Love  is  more  my  whole  life 
than  it  can  be  yours.  For  this  cruel  thing  I  have  said 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  299 

and  done,  you  may  press  on  my  lips  another  kiss.  If  I 
am  disobedient  to  my  mother's  wishes  God  will  forgive 
me." 

The  train  blew  the  long  deep  call  for  its  hundred 
mile  stop  and  they  both  rose.  He  took  her  hands  in 
his. 

"  You  have  promised  not  to  write  to  me,  dear,  but  I 
have  made  no  promise.  I  will  write  to  you  as  often  as  I 
can  send  you  a  cheerful  message,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  so  sweet  of  you !  " 

"  You  have  the  little  love-token  still  ?  "  he  asked. 

:<  Yes,  in  my  bosom.  I  feel  it  warm  and  throbbing 
with  your  love,  and  it  shall  not  be  taken  from  me  in  the 
grave!" 

"  That  thought  will  cheer  the  darkest  hours  that  can 
come  and  now,  till  we  meet  again,  we  must  say  good- 
bye," he  said  huskily. 

She  could  make  no  response.  He  placed  his  arms 
around  her,  pressed  her  close  to  his  heart  for  a  moment, 
— one  long  wistful  kiss,  and  he  was  gone. 

He  rode  slowly  back  to  Hambright.  The  eastern  hori- 
zon was  fringed  with  the  light  of  dawn  when  he  reached 
the  town.  The  more  he  had  thought  of  his  position  and 
the  way  the  General  had  treated  him  in  attempting  to 
settle  his  fate  by  a  fiat  of  his  own  will  without  a  hearing, 
the  more  it  roused  his  wrath,  and  nerved  him  for  the 
struggle.  They  were  to  measure  wills  in  a  contest  that 
on  his  part  had  life  for  its  stake. 

"  I'll  give  the  old  warrior  the  fight  of  his  career !  "  he 
muttered  as  he  snapped  his  square  jaw  together  with  the 
grip  of  a  vise.  "  My  brains,  and  every  power  with  which 
nature  has  endowed  me  against  his  will  and  his  money. 
And  for  the  dastard  who  has  slandered  me  there  will  be 
a  reckoning." 

He  was  fighting  in  the  dark  but  deep  down  in  him  he 


300  The  Leopard's  Spots 

had  a  soldier's  love  for  a  fight.  His  soul  rose  to  meet 
the  challenge  of  this  hidden  foe  armed  in  the  steel  of 
a  proud  heritage  of  courage.  He  went  to  bed  and  slept 
soundly  for  six  hours. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  MYSTERY  OF  PAIN 

G  ASTON  awoke  next  morning  at  half  past  ten 
o'clock  with  a  dull  headache,  and  a  sense  of 
hopeless  depression.    His  anger  had  cooled  and 
left  him  the  pitiful  consciousness  of  his  loss.    He  slowly 
and  mechanically  dressed. 

When  he  buttoned  his  coat  he  felt  something  hard 
press  against  his  heart.  It  was  the  ring.  He  sat  down 
on  his  bed  and  drew  it  from  his  pocket.  To  his  surprise 
he  found  coiled  inside  it  and  tied  by  a  tiny  ribbon  a  ring- 
let of  her  hair.  She  had  taken  off  the  ring  in  her  mother's 
presence  and  promised  her  to  register  and  mail  it  in 
Atlanta.  She  had  bound  this  little  piece  of  herself  with 
it.  He  kissed  it  tenderly. 

"  My  God,  it  is  hard !  "  he  groaned.  And  all  the  un- 
shed tears  that  his  eager  interest  in  her  presence  and  his 
kindling  anger  the  night  before  had  kept  back  now  blinded 
him. 

He  did  not  notice  his  door  softly  open,  nor  know  his 
mother  was  near  until  she  placed  her  hand  gently  on  his 
shoulder.  He  looked  up  at  her  face  full  of  tender  sym- 
pathy, and  poured  out  to  her  his  trouble  in  a  torrent 
of  hot  rebellious  words. 

"  What  have  I  done  to  be  treated  like  a  dog  in  this 
way  ?  "  he  ended  with  a  voice  trembling  with  protest. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  offended  the  General  in  some 
way?" 

301 


joa  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Impossible  4  I've  been  the  soul  of  deference  to 
him." 

"  He's  a  very  proud  man  when  his  vanity  is  touched, 
are  you  sure  of  it  ?  " 

"  As  sure  as  that  I  live.  No,  some  scoundrel  has  in- 
terfered between  us  and  in  some  unaccountable  way  cov- 
ered me  with  infamy  in  the  General's  eyes." 

"  But  who  could  have  done  it  ?  " 

"  I  used  my  utmost  power  of  persuasion  to  get  it  from 
her.  But  she  would  not  tell  me.  I  have  been  stabbed  in 
the  dark." 

"  Whom  do  you  suspect  ?    She  has  a  dozen  suitors." 

"  There's  only  one  man  among  them  who  is  capable  of 
it,  Allan  McLeod." 

"  Nonsense,  child.  He  is  not  one  of  her  suitors,"  she 
protested  warmly. 

"  Then  why  does  he  hang  around  the  house  with  such 
dogged  persistence  ?  " 

"  He  has  always  had  the  run  of  the  house.  His  father 
committed  him  to  the  General  when  he  died  on  the  battle 
field." 

Her  face  clouded,  and  then  a  great  pity  for  his  sorrow 
filled  her  heart.  She  stooped  and  kissed  him. 

"  Come,  Charlie,  you  must  cheer  up.  If  she  loves  you, 
it's  everything.  You  will  win  her." 

"  But  what  rankles  in  my  soul  is  that  I  have  been 
treated  like  a  dog.  If  he  objected  to  my  poverty  that 
was  as  evident  the  first  day  he  welcomed  me  to  his  house 
as  the  day  he  dictated  to  her  his  brutal  message,  refusing 
me  a  word.  He  welcomed  me  to  his  house,  and  gave  Miss 
Sallie  his  approval  of  our  love  while  I  was  there.  There 
could  be  no  mistake,  for  she  told  me  so." 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  she  interrupted. 

"  Now  he  suddenly  shows  me  the  door  and  refuses  to 
allow  me  to  even  ask  an  explanation.  If  he  thinks  he 


The  Mystery  of  Pain  303 

can  settle  my  life  for  me  in  that  simple  manner,  I'll  show 
him  that  I'll  at  least  help  in  the  settlement." 

"  Good.  I  like  to  see  your  eyes  flash  that  fire.  Don't 
forget  your  resolution.  Your  enemies  are  your  best 
friends."  She  said  this  with  a  ring  of  her  old  aristocratic 
pride.  "  Come,"  she  continued,  "  I've  a  nice  warm  break- 
fast saved  for  you.  You  don't  know  how  much  good 
you  have  done  me  in  my  lonely  life." 

"  Dear  Mother !  "  he  whispered  pressing  her  hand. 

After  breakfast  he  went  to  his  office  and  read  over 
slowly  the  letters  he  had  received  from  Sallie,  kissed 
them  one  by  one,  tied  them  up  and  sent  them  to  her 
mother.  He  took  the  ring  out  of  his  pocket  and  locked 
it  in  one  of  his  drawers. 

"  I  can't  work  to-day.  It's  no  use  trying !  "  he  muttered 
looking  out  of  his  window.  He  locked  his  office  and 
started  down  town  with  no  purpose  except  in  the  walk 
to  try  to  fight  his  pain.  Instinctively  he  found  his  way 
to  Tom  Camp's  cottage. 

"  Tom,  old  boy,  I'm  in  deep  water.  You've  been  there. 
I  just  want  to  feel  your  hand." 

Tom  was  clearing  up  his  kitchen  with  one  hand  and 
holding  the  other  tight  over  the  wound  near  his  spinal 
column.  He  had  suffered  untold  agonies  through  the 
night  past  and  was  suffering  yet,  but  he  never  men- 
tioned it. 

"  You've  just  got  your  blues  again !  "  Tom  laughed. 

"  No,  a  devil  has  stabbed  me  in  the  back  in  the  dark." 
And  he  told  Tom  of  his  love  and  his  inexplicable  trouble. 

"  So,  so !  "  Tom  mused  with  dancing  eyes,  "  The  Gen- 
eral's gal  Miss  Sallie !  My !  my !  but  ain't  she  a  beauty ! 
Next  to  my  own  little  gal  there  she's  the  purtiest  thing 
in  No'th  Caliny.  And  you're  her  sweetheart,  and  she 
told  you  she  loved  you  ?  " 

«  Yes." 


304  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Then  what  ails  you  ?  Man,  to  hear  that  from  such 
lips  as  she's  got's  music  enough  for  a  year.  You  want 
the  whole  regimental  band  to  be  play  in'  all  the  time.  If 
she  loves  you,  that's  enough  now  to  give  you  nerve  to 
fight  all  earth  and  hell  combined .  "  Tom  urged  this  with 
an  enthusiasm  that  admitted  no  reply. 

Flora  had  climbed  in  his  lap,  and  was  going  through 
his  pockets  to  find  some  candy. 

"  You  didn't  bring  me  a  bit  this  time !  "  she  cried  re- 
proachfully. 

"  Honey,  I  forgot  it,"  he  apologised. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  love  me  any  more,  Charlie,"  she 
declared  placing  her  hands  on  his  cheeks  and  looking 
steadily  into  his  eyes,  "  Am  I  your  sweetheart  yet  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Of  course,  dearie,  and  about  the  only  one  I  can  de- 
pend on ! " 

"  La,  Charlie,  your  eyes  are  red ! "  she  cried  in  sur- 
prise. "  Do  you  cry  ?  " 

"  Sometimes,  when  my  heart  gets  too  full." 

"  Then,  I'll  kiss  the  red  away !  "  she  said  as  she  softly 
kissed  his  eyes. 

"  That's  good,  Flora.    It  will  make  them  better/ 

"  Now,  Pappy,"  she  said  triumphantly,  "  you  say  I'm 
getting  too  big  to  cry,  and  I  ain't  but  eleven  years  old, 
and  Charlie's  big  as  you  and  he  cries." 

Tom  took  her  in  his  arms  and  smoothed  his  hand  over 
her  fair  hair  with  a  tenderness  that  had  in  its  trembling 
touch  all  the  mystery  of  both  mother  and  father  love  in 
which  his  brooding  soul  had  wrapped  her. 

Gaston  returned  home  with  lighter  step.  He  met,  as  he 
crossed  the  square,  the  Preacher  who  was  waiting  for  him. 

"  Come  here  and  sit  down  a  minute.  I've  heard  of  your 
trouble.  You  have  my  sympathy.  But  you'll  come  out 
all  right.  The  oak  that's  bent  by  the  storm  makes  a  fibre 


The  Mystery  of  Pain  305 

fit  for  a  ship's  rib.  You  can't  make  steel  without  white 
heat.  God's  just  trying  your  temper,  boy,  to  see  if  there's 
anything  in  you.  When  he  has  tried  you  in  the  fire,  and 
the  pure  gold  shines,  he  will  call  you  to  higher  things." 

Gaston  nodded  his  assent  to  this  saying,  "  And  yet, 
Doctor,  none  of  us  like  the  touch  of  fire  or  the  smell  of 
the  smoke  of  our  clothes." 

"  You  are  right.  But  it's  good  for  the  soul.  You  are 
learning  now  that  we  must  face  things  that  we  don't  like 
in  this  world.  I  am  older  than  you.  I  will  tell  you  some- 
thing that  you  can't  really  know  until  you  have  lived 
through  this.  Love  seems  to  you  at  this  time  the  only 
thing  in  the  world.  But  it  is  not.  My  deepest  sympathy 
is  with  Sallie.  She's  already  pure  gold.  To  such  a 
woman  love  is  the  centre  of  gravity  of  all  life.  This  is 
not  true  of  a  strong  normal  man.  The  centre  of  gravity 
of  a  strong  man's  life  as  a  whole  is  not  in  love  and  the 
emotions,  but  in  justice  and  intellect  and  their  expression 
in  the  wider  social  relations/' 

"  And  that  means  that  I  must  brace  up  for  this  po- 
litical fight?" 

"  Exactly  so.  And  it's  the  best  thing  you  can  do  for 
your  love.  Become  a  power  and  you  can  coerce  even  a 
man  of  the  General's  character." 

"  You  are  right,  Doctor.  I  had  my  mind  about  fixed 
on  that  course." 

"  You  will  find  the  County  Committee  in  session  in  the 
Clerk's  office  there  now.  They  want  to  see  you.  I  tell 
you  to  fight  this  coalition  of  McLeod  and  the  farmers 
every  inch  up  to  the  last  hour  it  is  formed,  and  if  McLeod 
wins  them,  and  the  alliance  is  made,  then  fight  to  break  it 
every  day  and  every  hour  and  every  minute  till  the  votes 
are  counted  out." 

Gaston  went  at  once  into  the  consultation  with  the 
Democratic  county  committee. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
IS  GOD  OMNIPOTENT? 

AS  Gaston  left  the  Preacher,  the  Rev.  Ephraim  Fox 
approached.     He  was  the  pastor  of  the  Negro 
Baptist  church,  and  had  succeeded    old    Uncle 
Josh  at  his  death  ten  years  before. 

He  bowed  deferentially,  and,  hat  in  hand,  stood  close 
to  the  seat  on  which  Durham  was  still  resting. 

"  How  dis  you  doan  come  down  ter  our  chu'ch  en 
•preach  fur  us  no  mo  Brer'  Durham?  We  been  er  havin' 
powerful  times  down  dar  lately,  en  de  folks  wants  you  ter 
come  en  preach  some  mo." 

"  I  can't  do  it,  Eph." 

"  What  de  matter,  Preacher?  We  ain't  hu't  yo  feelin's, 
is  we?" 

"  No,  not  in  a  personal  way,  but  you've  got  beyond 
me." 

"  How's  dat  ?  "  asked  Ephraim  rolling  his  eyes. 

"  Well,  as  long  as  I  preach  to  your  folks  about  heaven 
and  the  glory  beyond  this  world,  they  shout  and  sweat 
and  sing.  And  when  I  jump  on  the  old  sinners  in  the 
Bible,  they  are  in  glee.  They  like  to  see  the  fur  fly. 
But  the  minute  I  pounce  on  them  about  stealing,  and 
lying,  and  drinking,  and  lust, — they  don't  want  to  furnish 
any  of  the  fur .  " 

"  De  Lawd,  Preacher,  hit's  des  de  same  wid  de  white 
folks ! "  urged  Ephraim  with  a  wink. 

"  That's  so.  But  the  difference  is  your  people  talk 
back  at  me  after  the  meeting." 

3C6 


Is  God  Omnipotent?  307 

"  How's  dat?  "  Ephraim  repeated. 

"  Why  when  I  preach  righteousness  and  judgment  on 
the  thief  and  accuse  them  of  stealing,  I  lose  my  wood, 
and  my  corn,  and  my  chickens." 

Ephraim  was  silent  a  moment  and  then  he  smiled  as 
he  said, 

"  Preacher,  dey  ain't  er  nigger  in  dis  town  doan  lub 
you." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it.  That's  why  they  steal  from  me  so 
much." 

"  Go  long  wid  yo  fun !  "  roared  Ephraim.  "  You  know 
you  ain't  gone  back  on  us  des  cause  some  nigger  tuck  er 
stick  er"  wood — deys  sumfin'  else — you  cain  fool  me." 

"  Well,  you  are  right,  that  isn't  the  main  reason.  There 
are  others.  You  turned  a  man  out  of  your  church  for 
voting  the  Democratic  ticket." 

"  Yes,  but  Preacher,"  interrupted  Eph  impatiently, 
"  dat  wuz  er  low-down  mean  nigger .  He  didn't  hab  no 
salvation  nohow ! " 

"  Then  you  keep  a  deacon  in  your  church  who  served 
two  terms  in  the  penitentiary." 

"  But  dat's  de  bes'  deacon  I  got,"  pleaded  Eph  sadly. 

"  Turn  him  out  I  tell  you !  " 

"  But  dey  all  does  little  tings." 

"  Turn  'em  all  out !  " 

"  Den  we  ain't  got  no  chu'ch,  en  de  shepherd  ain't  got 
no  flock  ter  tend,  er  ter  shear.  You  des  splain  how  de 
Lawd  tempers  de  win'  ter  de  shorn  lam'.  Den  ef  I  doan 
shear  'em,  de  win'  mought  blow  too  hard  on  'em.  En 
ef  I  doan  keep  'em  in  de  pen,  how  kin  I  shear  'em?  I 
axes  you  dat  ?  " 

The  Preacher  smiled  and  continued,  "  Then  I've  heard 
some  ugly  things  about  you,  Eph,"  suddenly  darting  a 
piercing  look  straight  into  his  face. 

"Who,  me?" 


308  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Yes,  you.  And  I  can't  afford  to  go  into  the  pulpit 
with  you  any  more.  In  the  old  slavery  days  you  were 
taught  the  religion  of  Christ.  It  didn't  mean  crime,  and 
lust,  and  lying,  and  drinking,  whatever  it  meant.  Your 
religion  has  come  to  be  a  stench.  You  are  getting  lower 
and  lower.  You  will  be  governed  by  no  one.  I  can't 
use  force.  I  leave  you  alone.  You  have  gone  beyond  me." 

"  But  de  Lawd  lub  a  sinner,  en  his  mercy  enduref  for- 
eber !  "  solemnly  grumbled  Ephraim. 

"  In  the  old  days,"  persisted  the  Preacher,  "  I  used  to 
preach  to  your  people.  I  saw  before  me  many  men  of 
character,  carpenters,  bricklayers,  wheelwrights,  farmers, 
faithful  home  servants  that  loved  their  masters  and  were 
faithful  unto  death.  Now  I  see  a  cheap  lot  of  thieves  and 
jailbirds  and  trifling  women  seated  in  high  places.  You 
have  shown  no  power  to  stand  alone  on  the  solid  basis 
of  character." 

"  Why  Brer'  Durham,"  urged  Eph  in  an  injured  voice, 
"  I  baptised  inter  de  kingdom  over  a  hundred  precious 
souls  las'  year !  " 

"  Yes,  but  what  they  needed  was  not  a  baptism  of 
water.  You  negroes  need  a  racial  baptism  into  truth, 
integrity,  virtue,  self-restraint,  industry,  courage,  patience, 
and  purity  of  manhood  and  womanhood.  I  used  to  be 
hopeful  about  you,  but  I'd  just  as  well  be  frank  with  you, 
I've  given  you  up.  I've  said  the  grace  of  God  was  suf- 
ficient for  all  problems.  I  don't  know  now.  I'm  getting 
older  and  it  grows  darker  to  me.  I  have  come  to  believe 
there  are  some  things  God  Almighty  can  not  do.  Can 
God  make  a  stone  so  big  He  can't  lift  it?  In  either 
event,  He  is  not  omnipotent.  It  looks  like  He  did  just 
that  thing  when  He  made  the  Negro.  Leave  me  out  of 
your  calculation,  Ephraim." 

"  Mus'  gib  de  nigger  time,  Preacher !  "  Eph  muttered 
as  he  walked  slowly  away. 


Is  God  Omnipotent?  309 

When  Gaston  emerged  from  the  court  house,  the 
Preacher  joined  him  and  they  walked  home  to  the  hotel 
together. 

"  What  did  the  two  farmers  on  your  committee  think 
of  the  chances  of  preventing  the  Alliance  from  joining 
the  negroes  ?  " 

"  Not  much  of  them.  They  say  we  can't  do  anything 
with  them  when  the  test  comes,  unless  we  will  endorse 
their  scheme  of  issuing  money  on  corn  and  pumpkins  and 
potatoes  stored  in  a  government  barn.  If  it  comes  to 
that,  I  will  not  prostitute  my  intellect  by  advocating  any 
such  measure  on  the  floor  of  our  convention.  We  stand 
for  one  thing  at  least,  the  supremacy  of  Anglo-Saxon 
civilisation.  I  had  rather  be  beaten  by  the  negroes  and 
their  allies  this  time  on  such  an  issue." 

"  But,  my  boy,  if  McLeod  and  his  negroes  get  control 
of  this  state  for  four  years,  they  can  so  corrupt  its  laws 
and  its  electorate,  they  may  hold  it  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury. We  must  fight  to  the  last  ditch." 

"  I  draw  the  line  at  pumpkin  leaves  for  money,"  in- 
sisted Gaston. 

It  was  but  ten  days  to  the  meeting  of  the  Democratic 
state  convention,  and  they  were  coming  together  divided 
in  opinion,  and  at  sea  as  to  their  policy,  with  a  united 
militant  Farmers'  Alliance  demanding  the  uprooting  of 
the  foundations  of  the  economic  world,  and  a  hundred 
thousand  negro  voters  grinning  at  this  opportunity  to 
strike  their  white  foes,  while  McLeod  stood  in  the  back- 
ground smiling  over  the  certainty  of  his  triumph. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  WAYS  OF  BOSTON 

WHEN  Helen  Lowell  reached  Boston  from  her 
visit  with  Sallie  Worth,  she  found  her  father 
in  the  midst  of  his  political  campaign.  The 
Hon.  Everett  Lowell  was  the  representative  of  Congress 
from  the  Boston  Highlands  district.  His  home  was  an 
old  fashioned  white  Colonial  house  built  during  the  Amer- 
ican Revolution. 

He  was  not  a  man  of  great  wealth,  but  well-to-do,  a 
successful  politician,  enthusiastic  student,  a  graduate  of 
Harvard,  and  he  had  always  made  a  specialty  of  cham- 
pioning the  cause  of  the  "  freedmen."  He  was  a  chronic 
proposer  of  a  military  force  bill  for  the  South. 

His  family  was  one  of  the  proudest  in  America.  He 
had  a  family  tree  five  hundred  years  old — an  unbroken 
line  of  unconquerable  men  who  held  liberty  dearer  than 
life.  He  believed  in  the  heritage  of  good  honest  blood  as 
he  believed  in  blooded  horses.  His  home  was  furnished 
in  perfect  taste,  with  beautiful  old  rosewood  and  ma- 
hogany stuff  that  had  both  character  and  history.  On 
the  walls  hung  the  stately  portraits  of  his  ancestors  repre- 
sentative of  three  hundred  years  of  American  life.  He 
never  confused  his  political  theories  about  the  abstract 
rights  of  the  African  with  his  personal  choice  of  associates 
or  his  pride  in  his  Anglo-Saxon  blood.  With  him  politics 
was  one  thing,  society  another. 

His  pet  hobby,  which  combined  in  one  his  philanthropic 
310 


The  Ways  of  Boston  311 

ideals  and  his  practical  politics,  was  of  late  a  patronage 
he  had  extended  to  young  George  Harris,  the  bright  mu- 
latto son  of  Eliza  and  George  Harris  whose  dramatic 
slave  history  had  made  their  son  famous  at  Harvard. 

This  young  .negro  was  a  speaker  of  fair  ability  and 
was  accompanying  Loweil  on  his  campaign  tours  of  the 
district,  making  speeches  for  his  patron,  who  had  ob- 
tained for  him  a  clerk's  position  in  the  United  States 
Custom  House.  Harris  was  quite  a  drawing  card  at  these 
meetings.  He  had  a  natural  aptitude  for  politics ;  modest, 
affable,  handsome,  and  almost  white,  he  was  a  fine  argu- 
ment in  himself  to  support  Lowell's  political  theories, 
who  used  him  for  all  he  was  worth  as  he  had  at  the 
previous  election. 

Harris  had  become  a  familiar  figure  at  Lowell's  home 
in  the  spacious  library,  where  he  had  the  free  use  of  the 
books,  and  frequently  he  dined  with  the  family,  when 
there  at  dinner  time  hard  at  work  on  some  political  speech 
or  some  study  for  a  piece  of  music. 

Lowell  had  met  his  daughter  at  the  depot  behind  his 
pair  of  Kentucky  thoroughbreds.  This  daughter,  his  only 
child,  was  his  pride  and  joy.  She  was  a  blonde  beauty, 
and  her  resemblance  to  her  father  was  remarkable.  He 
was  a  widower,  and  this  lovely  girl,  at  once  the  incar- 
nation of  his  lost  love  and  so  fair  a  reflection  of  his 
being,  had  ruled  him  with  absolute  sway  during  the  past 
few  years. 

He  was  laughing  like  a  boy  at  her  coming, 

"  Oh !  my  beauty,  the  sight  of  your  face  gives  me  new 
life ! "  he  cried  smiling  with  love  and  admiration. 

"  You  mustn't  try  to  spoil  me !  "  she  laughed. 

"  Did  you  really  have  a  good  time  in  Dixie  ?  "  he  whis- 
pered. 

"  Oh !  Papa,  such  a  time !  "  she  exclaimed  shutting  her 
eyes  as  though  she  were  trying  to  live  it  over  again. 


312  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"Really?" 

"  Beaux,  morning,  noon  and  night, — dancing,  moon- 
light rides,  boats  gliding  along  the  beautiful  river  and 
mocking  birds  singing  softly  their  love-song  under  the 
window  all  night !  " 

"  Well  you  did  have  romance,"  he  declared. 

"  Yes,"  she  went  on  "  and  such  people,  such  hospitality 
— oh !  I  feel  as  though  I  never  had  lived  before." 

"  My  dear,  you  mustn't  desert  us  all  like  that,"  he  pro- 
tested. 

"  I  can't  help  it,  I'm  a  rebel  now." 

"  Then  keep  still  till  the  campaign's  over !  "  he  warned 
in  mock  fear. 

"  And  the  boys  down  there,"  she  continued,  "  they  are 
such  boys !  Time  doesn't  seem  to  be  an  object  with  them 
at  all.  Evidently  they  have  never  heard  of  our  uplifting 
Yankee  motto  '  Time  is  money/  And  such  knightly  def- 
erence !  such  charming  old  fashioned  chivalrous  ways !  " 

"  But,  dear,  isn't  that  a  little  out  of  date?" 

"  How  staid  and  proper  and  busy  Boston  seems !  I 
know  I  am  going  to  be  depressed  by  it." 

"  I  know  what's  the  matter  with  you !  "  he  whistled. 

"What?"  she  slyly  asked. 

"  One  of  those  boys." 

"  I  confess.    Papa,  he's  as  handsome  as  a  prince." 

"What  does  he  look  like?" 

"  He  is  tall,  dark,  with  black  hair,  black  eyes,  slender, 
graceful,  all  fire  and  energy." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"  St.  Clare— Robert  St.  Clare.  His  father  was  away 
from  home.  He's  a  politician,  I  think." 

"  You  don't  say !  St.  Clare .  Well  of  all  the  jokes  ! 
His  father  is  my  Democratic  chum  in  the  House — an  old 
fire-eating  Bourbon,  but  a  capital  fellow." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  him?" 


The  Ways  of  Boston  313 

"  No,  but  I've  had  good  times  with  his  father.  He 
used  to  own  a  hundred  slaves.  He's  a  royal  fellow,  and 
pretty  well  fixed  in  life  for  a  Southern  politician.  I  don't 
think  though  I  ever  saw  his  boy.  Anything  really  seri- 
ous?" 

"  He  hasn't  said  a  word — but  he's  coming  to  see  me 
next  week." 

"  Well  things  are  moving,  I  must  say ! " 

"  Yes,  I  pretended  I  must  consult  you,  before  telling 
him  he  could  come.  I  didn't  want  to  seem  too  anxious. 
I'm  half  afraid  to  let  him  wander  about  Boston  much, 
there  are  too  many  girls  here." 

Her  father  laughed  proudly  and  looked  at  her.  "  1 
hope  you  will  find  him  all  your  heart  most  desires,  and 
my  congratulations  on  your  first  love !  " 

"  It  will  be  my  last,  too,"  she  answered  seriously. 

"  Ah !  you're  too  young  and  pretty  to  say  that !  " 

"  I  mean  it,"  she  said  earnestly  with  a  smile  trembling 
on  her  lips. 

Her  father  was  silent  and  pressed  her  hand  for  an 
answer.  As  they  entered  the  gate  of.  the  home,  they  met 
young  Harris  coming  out  with  some  books  under  his  arm. 
He  bowed  gracefully  to  them  and  passed  on. 

"  Oh !  Papa,  I  had  forgotten  all  about  your  fad  for  that 
young  negro !  " 

"  Well,  what  of  it,  dear?" 

"  You  love  me  very  much,  don't  you  ?  "  she  asked  ten- 
derly. "  I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  be  inconsistent,  for  my 
sake." 

"  That's  easy.  I'm  often  that  for  nobody's  sake.  Con- 
sistency is  only  the  terror  of  weak  minds." 

"  I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  keep  that  young  negro  out 
of  the  house  when  my  Southern  friends  are  here.  After 
my  sweetheart  comes  I  expect  Sallie  and  her  mother.  1 
wouldn't  have  either  of  them  to  meet  him  here  in  our 


314  The  Leopard's  Spots 

library  and  especially  in  our  dining-room  for  anything  on 
earth!" 

"Well,  you  have  joined  the  rebels,  haven't  you?" 

"You  know  I  never  did  like  negroes  any  way,"  she 
continued.  "  They  always  gave  me  the  horrors.  Young 
Harris  is  a  scholarly  gentleman,  I  know.  He  is  good- 
looking,  talented,  and  I've  played  his  music  for  him 
sometimes  to  please  you,  but  I  can't  get  over  that  little 
kink  in  his  hair,  his  big  nostrils  and  full  lips,  and  when 
he  looks  at  me,  it  makes  my  flesh  creep." 

"  Certainly,  my  darling,  you  don't  need  to  coax  me. 
The  Lowells,  I  suspect,  know  by  this  time  what  is  due  to 
a  guest.  When  your  guests  come,  our  home  and  our  time 
are  theirs.  If  eating  meat  offends,  we  will  live  on  herbs. 
I'll  send  Harris  down  to  the  other  side  of  the  district  and 
keep  him  at  work  there  until  the  end  of  the  campaign. 
My  slightest  wish  is  law  for  him." 

"  You  see,  Papa,"  she  went  on,  "  they  never  could  un- 
derstand that  negro's  easy  ways  around  our  house,  and 
I  know  if  he  were  to  sit  down  at  our  table  with  them 
they  would  walk  out  of  the  dining-room  with  an  excuse 
of  illness  and  go  home  on  the  first  train." 

"  And  yet,"  returned  her  father  lifting  her  from  the 
carriage,  "  their  homes  were  full  of  negroes  were  they 
not?" 

"  Yes,  but  they  know  their  place.  I've  seen  those  beau- 
tiful Southern  children  kiss  their  old  black  '  Mammy/ 
It  made  me  shudder,  until  I  discovered  they  did  it  just  as 
I  kiss  Fido." 

"  And  this  a  daughter  of  Boston,  the  home  of  Gar- 
rison and  Sumner !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  I've  heard  that  Boston  mobbed  Garrison  once/'  she 
observed. 

"  Yes,  and  I  doubt  if  we  have  canonised  Sumner  yet. 
AH  right.  If  you  say  so,  I'll  order  a  steam  calliope  sta- 


The  Ways  of  Boston  315 

tioned  at  the  gate  and  hire  a  man  to  play  Dixie  for 
you!" 

She  laughed,  and  ran  up  the  steps. 


Sallie  determined  to  keep  the  secret  of  her  sorrow  in 
her  own  heart.  On  the  ocean  voyage  she  had  cried  the 
whole  first  day,  and  then  kissed  her  lover's  picture,  put 
it  down  in  the  bottom  of  her  trunk,  brushed  the  tears 
away  and  determined  the  world  should  not  look  on  her 
suffering. 

She  had  written  Helen  of  her  lover's  declaration,  and 
of  her  happiness.  She  would  find  a  good  excuse  for  her 
sorrowful  face  in  their  separation.  She  knew  he  would 
write  to  her,  for  he  had  said  so,  and  she  had  slipped  the 
address  into  his  hand  as  he  left  the  car  that  night. 

At  first  she  was  puzzled  to  think  what  she  could  do 
about  answering  these  letters  so  Helen  would  not  suspect 
her  trouble.  Then  she  hit  on  the  plan  of  writing  to  him 
every  day,  posting  the  letters  herself  and  placing  them  in 
her  own  trunk  instead  of  the  post-box. 

"  He  will  read  them  some  day.  They  will  relieve  my 
heart,"  she  sadly  told  herself. 

Helen  met  her  on  the  pier  with  a  cry  of  girlish  joy,  and 
the  first  word  she  uttered  was, 

"  Oh !  Sallie,  Bob  loves  me !  He's  been  here  two  weeks, 
and  he's  just  gone  home.  I  have  been  in  heaven.  We 
are  engaged !  " 

"  Then  I'll  kiss  you  again,  Helen .  " — She  gave  her  an- 
other kiss. 

"  And  I've  a  big  letter  at  home  for  you  alreadyl  It's 
post-marked  '  Hambright.'  It  came  this  morning.  I 
know  you  will  feast  on  it.  If  Bob  don't  write  me  faithfully 
I'll  make  him  come  here  and  live  in  Boston." 

When  Sallie  got  this  letter,  she  sat  down  in  her  room, 


316  The  Leopard's  Spots 

and  read  and  re-read  its  passionate  words.  There  was  a 
tone  of  bitterness  and  wounded  pride  in  it.  She  struggled 
bravely  to  keep  the  tears  back.  Then  the  tone  of  the 
letter  changed  to  tenderness  and  faith  and  infinite  love 
that  struggled  in  vain  for  utterance. 

She  kissed  the  name  and  sighed.  "  Now  I  must  go 
down  and  chat  and  smile  with  Helen.  She's  so  silly 
about  her  own  love,  if  I  talk  about  Bob  she  will  forget 
I  live." 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  SHADOW  OF  A  DOUBT 

MRS.  WORTH  had  arrived  in  Boston  a  few  days 
after  Sallie,  coming  direct  by  rail.     She  was 
still  very,  weak  from  her  recent  attack,  and  it 
cut  her  to  the  heart  to  watch  Sallie  write  those  letters 
faithfully,  and  never  mail  them  out  of  deference  to  her 
wishes. 

One  night  she  drew  her  daughter  down  and  kissed 
her. 

"  Sallie,  dear,  you  don't  know  how  it  hurts  me  to  see 
you  suffer  this  way,  and  write,  and  write  these  letters 
your  lover  never  sees.  You  may  send  him  one  letter  a 
week,  I  don't  care  what  the  General  says." 

There  was  a  sob  and  another  kiss  and,  Sallie  was  crying 
on  her  breast. 

In  answer  to  her  first  letter,  Gaston  was  thrilled  with 
a  new  inspiration.  He  sat  down  that  night  and  answered 
it  in  verse.  All  the  deep  longings  of  his  soul,  his  hopes 
and  fears,  his  pain  and  dreams  he  set  in  rhythmic 
music.  Her  mother  read  all  his  letters  after  Sallie.  And 
she  cried  with  sorrow  and  pride  over  this  poem. 

"  Sallie,  I  don't  blame  you  for  being  proud  of  such  a 
lover.  Your  life  is  rich  hallowed  by  the  love  of  such  a 
man.  Your  father  is  wrong  in  his  position.  If  I  were 
a  girl  and  held  the  love  of  such  a  man,  I'd  cherish  it  as 
I  would  my  soul's  salvation.  Be  patient  and  faithful." 

"  Sweet  mother  heart !  "  she  whispered  as  she  smoothed 
the  grey  hair  tenderly. 

317 


ji8  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Allan  McLeod  had  arrived  in  Boston  the  day  before 
and  the  morning's  papers  were  full  of  an  interview  with 
him  on  his  brilliant  achievement  in  breaking  the  ranks 
of  the  Bourbon  Democracy  in  North  Carolina,  and  the 
certainty  of  the  success  of  his  ticket  at  the  approaching 
election. 

McLeod  sent  the  paper  to  Mrs.  Worth  by  a  special 
messenger,  lest  she  might  not  see  it,  and  that  evening 
called.  He  asked  Sallie  to  accompany  him  to  the  theatre, 
and  when  she  refused  spent  the  evening. 

When  her  mother  had  retired  McLeod  drew  his  seat 
near  her  and  again  told  her  in  burning  words  his  love. 

"  Miss  Sallie,  I  have  won  the  battle  of  life  at  its  very 
threshold.  I  shall  be  a  United  States  Senator  in  a  few 
months.  I  want  to  lead  you,  my  bride,  into  the  gallery 
of  the  Senate  before  I  walk  down  its  aisles  to  take  the 
oath.  I  have  loved  you  faithfully  for  years.  I  have  your 
father's  consent  to  my  suit.  I  asked  him  before  leaving 
on  this  trip.  Surely  you  will  not  say  no  ?  " 

"  Allan  McLeod,  I  do  not  love  you.  I  do  love  another. 
I  hate  the  sight  of  you  and  the  sound  of  your  voice." 

"  If  you  do  not  marry  Gaston,  will  you  give  me  a 
chance  ?  " 

"  If  I  do  not  marry  the  man  of  my  choice,  I  will  never 
marry.  Now  go." 

McLeod  returned  to  the  hotel  with  the  fury  of  the  devil 
seething  in  his  soul.  He  determined  to  return  to  Ham- 
bright,  and  if  possible  entrap  Gaston  in  dissipation  and 
destroy  his  faith  in  Sallie's  loyalty. 

He  wrote  to  the  General  that  he  had  been  rejected  by 
his  daughter  who  still  corresponded  with  Gaston.  When 
General  Worth  received  this  letter  he  wrote  in  wrath  to 
his  wife,  peremptorily  forbidding  Sallie  to  write  another 
line  to  Gaston  and  closed  saying, 

"  J  had  trusted  this  matter  to  you,  my  dear,  now  I 


The  Shadow  of  a  Doubt  319 

it  out  of  your  hands.  I  forbid  another  line  or  word  to 
this  man." 

Gaston  watched  and  waited  in  vain  for  the  letter  he 
was  to  receive  next  week.  Again  his  soul  sank  with  doubt 
and  fear.  What  fiend  was  striking  him  with  an  unseen 
hand?  He  felt  he  should  choke  with  rage  as  he  thought 
of  the  infamy  of  such  a  warfare. 

His  mother  said  to  him  shortly  after  McLeod's  arrival, 

"  Charlie,  I  have  some  bad  news  for  you." 

"  It  can't  be  any  worse  than  I  have,  the  misery  of  an 
unexplained  silence  of  two  weeks." 

"  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  tell  you.  It  is  the  explanation 
of  that  silence,  I  fear." 

"  What  is  it,  Mother?  "  he  asked  soberly. 

"  I  hear  that  Sallie  has  plunged  into  frivolous  society, 
is  dancing  every  night  at  the  hotel  at  Narragansett  Pier 
where  they  are  stopping  now,  and  flirting  with  a  half- 
dozen  young  men." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  growled  Gaston. 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  true,  Charlie,  and  I'm  furious  with 
her  for  treating  you  like  this.  I  thought  she  had  more 
character." 

"  I'll  love  and  trust  her  to  the  end !  "  he  declared  as 
he  went  moodily  to  his  office.  But  the  poison  of  suspicion 
rankled  in  his  thoughts.  Why  had  she  ceased  to  write? 
Was  not  this  mask  of  society  a  habit  with  those  who  had 
learned  to  wear  it  ?  Was  not  habit,  after  all,  life  ?  Could 
one  ever  escape  it  ?  It  seemed  to  him  more  than  probable 
that  the  old  habits  should  re-assert  themselves  in  such  a 
crisis,  a  thousand  miles  removed  from  him  or  his  personal 
influence.  He  held  a  very  exaggerated  idea  of  the  cor- 
ruption of  modern  society.  And  his  heart  grew  heavier 
from  day  to  day  with  the  feeling  that  she  was  slipping 
away  from  him. 


CHAPTER  XX 
A  NEW  LESSON  IN  LOVE 

McLEOD  returned  home  to  find  his  plans  of  po- 
litical success   in  perfect    order.   '  The    pro- 
gramme went  through  without    a    hitch.     In 
spite  of  the  most  desperate  efforts  of  the  Democrats,  he 
carried  the  state  by  a  large  majority  and  made,  for  the 
Republican  party  and  its  strange  allies,  the  first  breach 
in  the  solid  phalanx  of  Democratic  supremacy  since  Le- 
gree  left  his  legacy  of  corruption  and  terror. 

The  Legislature  elected  two  Senators.  To  the  amaze- 
ment of  the  world,  the  day  before  the  caucus  of  the  Re- 
publicans met,  McLeod  withdrew.  He  had  no  opposi- 
tion so  far  as  anybody  knew,  but  a  curious  thing  had  hap- 
pened. The  Rev.  John  Durham  discovered  the  fact  that 
McLeod  kept  a  still  and  had  established  his  mother  as  an 
illicit  distiller  years  before.  One  of  his  deputies  who  had 
become  an  inebriate,  confessed  this  to  the  doctor  who  had 
informed  the  Preacher. 

The  Preacher  put  this  important  piece  of  information 
into  the  hands  of  a  daring  young  Republican  who  had 
always  been  one  from  principle.  He  went  to  Raleigh  and 
interviewed  McLeod.  At  first  McLeod  denied,  and  blus- 
tered, and  swore.  When  he  produced  the  proofs,  he  gave 
up,  and  asked  sullenly, 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"  Get  out  of  the  race." 

"All  right.    Is  that  all?    You're  on  top." 
320 


A  New  Lesson  in  Love  321 

"  No,  give  me  the  nomination." 

"  Never !  "  he  yelled  with  an  oath. 

"  Then  I'll  expose  you  in  to-morrow  morning's  paper, 
and  that's  the  end  of  you." 

McLeod  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  I'll  agree. 
You've  got  me.  But  I'll  make  one  little  condition.  You 
must  give  me  the  name  of  your  informant." 

"  The  Rev.  John  Durham." 

"  I  thought  as  much." 

To  the  amazement  of  everyone  McLeod  waived  the 
crown  aside  and  placed  it  on  the  head  of  one  of  his  lieu- 
tenants. He  returned  to  Hambright  from  this  dramatic 
event  with  an  unruffled  front.  To  his  cronies  he  said, 
"  Bah !  I  was  joking.  Never  had  any  idea  of  taking  the 
office  for  myself.  I'm  playing  for  larger  stakes.  I  make 
these  puppets,  and  pull  the  strings." 

He  devoted  himself  assiduously  in  the  leisure  which  fol- 
lowed to  Mrs.  Durham.  He  never  intimated  to  Durham 
that  he  knew  anything  about  the  part  he  had  taken  in  his 
withdrawal  from  the  Senatorship.  Nor  had  the  Preacher 
told  his  wife  of  his  discovery.  They  had  quarrelled  sev- 
eral times  about  McLeod.  His  wife  seemed  determined 
to  remain  loyal  to  the  boy  she  had  taught. 

McLeod  in  his  talk  with  her  intimated  that  he  had 
withdrawn  from  a  desire  vaguely  forming  in  his  mind  to 
get  out  of  the  filth  of  politics  altogether,  sooner  or  later, 
influenced  by  her  voice  alone. 

With  subtle  skill  he  played  upon  her  vanity  and  jeal- 
ousy, and  at  last  felt  that  he  had  entangled  her  so  far 
he  could  dare  a  declaration  of  his  feelings.  There  was 
one  element  only  in  her  mental  make-up  he  feared.  She 
held  tenaciously  the  old-fashioned  romantic  ideals  of  love. 
To  her  it  seemed  a  divine  mystery  linking  the  souls  that 
felt  it  to  the  infinite.  If  he  could  only  destroy  this  divine 
mystery  idea,  he  felt  sure  that  her  sense  of  isolation,  and 


312  The  Leopard's  Spots 

her  proud  rebellion  against  the  disappointments  of  life 
would  make  her  an  easy  prey  to  his  blandishments. 

He  searched  his  library  over  for  a  book  that  could 
scientifically  demonstrate  the  purely  physical  basis  of  love. 
He  knew  that  somewhere  in  his  studies  at  a  medical 
college  in  New  York  he  had  read  it. 

At  last  he  discovered  it  among  a  lot  of  old  magazines. 
It  was  a  brief  study  by  a  great  physician  of  Paris,  en- 
titled "  The  Natural  History  of  Love."  He  gave  it  to 
her,  and  asked  her  to  read  it  and  give  him  her  candid 
opinion  of  its  philosophy. 

He  waited  a  week  and  on  a  Saturday  when  the  Preacher 
was  absent  at  one  of  his  county  mission  stations  he  called 
at  the  hotel  for  a  long  afternoon's  talk.  He  determined 
to  press  his  suit. 

"  Do  yon  know,  Mrs.  Durham,  what  gives  a  preacher 
his  boasted  power  of  the  spirit  over  his  audiences  ?  "  he 
inquired  with  a  curious  laugh  in  the  midst  of  which  he 
changed  his  tone  of  voice. 

"  No,  you  are  an  expert  on  the  diseases  of  preachers, 
what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Very  simple.  Religion  is  founded  on  love,  there 
never  was  a  magnetic  preacher  who  was  not  a  resistless 
magnet  for  scores  of  magnetic  women.  If  you  don't  be- 
lieve it,  watch  how  resistless  is  the  impulse  of  all  these 
good-looking  women  to  shake  hands  with  their  preacher, 
and  how  fondly  they  look  at  him  across  the  pews  if  the 
crowd  is  too  dense  to  reach  his  hand . " 

A  frown  passed  over  her  face,  and  she  winced  at  the 
thrust,  yet  her  answer  was  a  surprising  question  to  him. 

"  Do  you  really  believe  in  anything,  Allan  ?  " 

"  You  ask  that?  "  he  said  leaning  closer.  "  You  whose 
great  dark  eyes  look  through  a  man's  very  soul  ?  " 

"  I  begin  to  think  I  have  never  seen  yours.  I  doubt  if 
you  have  a  soul." 


A  New  Lesson  in  Love  323 

"  Well,  what's  the  use  of  a  soul  ?  I  can't  satisfy  the 
wants  of  my  body .  " 

"  Answer  my  question.    Do  you  believe  in  anything?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  his  voice  sinking  to  a  tense  whisper, 
"  I  believe  in  Woman, — in  love." 

"In  Woman?" 

"  Yes,  Woman." 

"  You  mean  women,"  she  sneered. 

He  started  at  her  answer,  looked  intently  at  her,  and 
said  deliberately, 

"  I  mean  you,  the  One  Woman,  the  only  woman  in  the 
world  to  me." 

"  I  do  not  believe  one  word  you  have  uttered,  yet,  I 
confess  with  shame,  you  have  always  fascinated  me." 

"  Why  with  shame  ?  You  have  but  one  life  to  live. 
The  years  pass.  Even  beauty  so  rare  as  yours  fades  at 
last.  The  end  is  the  grave  and  worms.  Why  dash  from 
your  beautiful  lips  the  cup  of  life  when  it  is  full  to 
the  brim?" 

"How  skillfully  you  echo  the  dark  thoughts  that  flit 
on  devil  wings  through  the  soul,  when  we  feel  the  bitter- 
ness of  life's  failure,  its  contradictions  and  mysteries !  " 
she  exclaimed,  closing  her  eyes  for  a  moment  and  leaning 
back  in  her  chair. 

"  You've  often  talked  to  me  about  the  necessity  of  some 
sort  of  slavery  for  the  Negro  if  he  remain  in  America.  I 
begin  to  believe  that  slavery  is  a  necessity  for  all  women." 

"  I  fail  to  see  it,  sir." 

"  All  women  are  born  slaves  and  choose  to  remain  so 
through  life.  It  is  curious  to  see  you,  a  proud  imperious 
woman,  born  of  a  race  of  unconquerable  men,  stagger- 
ing to-day  under  the  chains  of  four  thousand  years  of 
conventional  laws  made  by  the  brute  strength  of  men. 
And  you,  if  you  struggle  at  all,  beat  your  wings  against 
the  bars  that  the  slaveholding  male  brute  has  built  about 


324  The  Leopard's  Spots 

your  soul,  fall  back  at  last  and  give  up  to  the  will  of  your 
master.  This  too,  when  you  hold  in  your  simple  will 
the  key  that  would  unlock  your  prison  door  and  make 
you  free.  It's  a  pitiful  sight." 

"  How  shrewd  a  tempter !  " 

"  There  you  are  again.  He  who  dares  to  tell  you  that 
you  are  of  yourself  a  living  human  being,  divinely  free, 
is  a  tempter  from  the  devil.  You  are  thinking  about 
eternity.  Well,  now  is  eternity.  Live,  stand  erect,  take 
a  deep  breath,  and  dare  to  be  yourself  and  do  what  you 
please.  That  is  what  I  do.  The  future  is  a  myth." 

"  Yes,  I  know  the  freedom  of  which  you  boast,"  she 
quietly  observed,  "  it  is  the  freedom  of  lust.  The  return 
to  nature  you  dream  of  is  simply  the  fall  downward  into 
the  dirt  out  of  which  a  rational  and  spiritual  manhood 
has  grown.  I  feel  and  know  this  in  spite  of  your  hand- 
some face  and  the  fine  ring  of  your  voice." 

"  Dirt .  Dirt !  "  he  mused.  "  Yes,  I  was  in  the  dirt 
once,  was  born  in  it,  the  dirt  of  poverty  and  superstition 
and  fears  of  laws  here  and  hereafter.  But  I  awoke  at 
last,  and  shook  it  off,  washed  myself  in  knowledge  and 
stood  erect.  I  am  a  man  now,  with  the  eye  of  a  king, 
conscious  of  my  power.  I  look  a  lying  hypocritical  world 
in  the  face.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  live  my  own  life 
in  spite  of  fools,  and  in  spite  of  the  laws  and  conventions 
of  fools." 

"  And  yet  I  believe  you  carry  a  horse-chestnut  in  your 
pocket,  and  will  not  undertake  an  important  work  on  Fri- 
day?" she  returned. 

"  But  I  never  strangle  a  normal  impulse  of  my  nature 
that  I  can  satisfy.  I  am  not  that  big  a  fool,  at  least." 

She  was  silent,  and  then  said,  "  I  can  never  thank  you 
enough  for  the  book  you  sent  me." 

McLeod  sighed  in  relief  at  her  change  of  tone.  After 
all  she  was  just  tantalising  him ! 


A  New  Lesson  in  Love  325 

"  Then  you  liked  it  ?  "  he  cried  with  glittering  eyes. 

"  I  devoured  every  word  of  it  with  a  greed  you  can 
not  understand.  A  great  man  wrote  it." 

"  Then  we  can  understand  each  other  better  from  to- 
day," he  interrupted  smilingly. 

"  Yes,  far  better.  You  gave  me  this  book  hoping  that 
it  might  influence  my  character  by  destroying  my  ideal 
of  love,  didn't  you,  now  frankly  ?  " 

"  Honestly,  I  did  hope  it  would  emancipate  you  from 
superstitions." 

"  It  has,"  she  declared,  but  with  a  curious  curve  of  her 
lip  that  chilled  him. 

"  What  are  you  driving  at?  "  he  asked  suspiciously. 

"  This  book  has  given  me  the  key  that  unlocked  for  me, 
for  the  first  time,  the  riddle  of  my  physical  being.  It 
has  shown  me  the  physical  basis  of  love,  just  as  I  knew 
before  there  was  a  physical  basis  of  the  soul." 

"  What  did  you  understand  the  book  to  teach  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Simply  that  love  is  fcased  in  its  material  life,  on  the 
lobe  of  the  brain  which  develops  at  the  base  of  a  child's 
head  near  the  age  of  thirteen.  That  this  lobe  of  the  brain 
is  the  sex  centre,  and  love  is  impossible  until  it  develops. 
That  this  centre  of  new  powers  at  the  base  of  the  skull 
is  a  physical  magnet.  That  when  a  man  and  woman 
approach  each  other,  who  are  by  nature  mates,  these  mag- 
netic centres  are  disturbed  by  action  and  reaction,  and 
that  this  disturbance  develops  the  second  elemental  pas- 
sion called  love.  The  first  elemental  passion,  hunger,  has 
for  its  end  the  preservation  of  the  individual;  while  love 
finds  its  fulfillment  in  the  preservation  of  the  species. 
Love  finds  its  satisfaction  in  the  child,  its  ardour  cools, 
and  it  dies,  unless  kept  alive  by  the  social  conventions  of 
the  family,  which  are  not  based  merely  on  this  violent 
emotion,  but  also  on  unity  of  tastes,  which  produce  the 


326  The  Leopard's  Spots 

sense  of  comradeship.  For  these  reasons  it  is  possible 
to  fall  violently  in  love  more  than  once,  and  there  are 
dozens  of  people  who  possess  this  magnetic  power  over 
us  and  would  respond  to  it  violently  if  we  only  came  in 
social  contact  with  them.  That  the  romantic  bombast 
about  the  possibility  of  but  one  love  in  life,  and  that 
of  supernatural  origin,  is  twaddle,  and  leads  to  false 
ideals.  Have  I  given  the  argument  ?  " 

"  Exactly.     But  what  do  you  deduce  from  it  ?  " 

"Freedom!" 

"  Good !  "  he  cried,  licking  his  lips. 

"  Freedom  from  superstitions  about  love,"  she  an- 
swered, "  and  positive  knowledge  of  its  elemental  beauty 
which  Nature  reveals.  In  short,  I  no  longer  wonder  and 
brood  over  your  charm  for  me.  I  know  exactly  what  it 
means,  and  how  it  might  occur  again  and  again  with  an- 
other and  another.  I  have  simply  throttled  it  in  a  moment 
by  an  act  of  my  will,  based  on  this  knowledge." 

"  You  amaze  me." 

"  No  doubt.  One's  character  centres  in  the  soul,  or  the 
appetites.  Mine  is  in  the  soul,  yours  in  the  appetites.  I 
see  you  to-day  as  you  really  are,  and  I  loathe  you  with 
an  unspeakable  loathing.  You  have  opened  my  eyes  with 
this  beautiful  little  book  of  Nature.  I  thank  you.  Your 
scientist  has  convinced  me  that  there  are  possibly  a  hun- 
dred men  in  the  world  who  would  affect  me  as  you  do, 
were  we  to  meet.  And  when  I  looked  back  into  the  sweet 
face  of  my  dead  boy,  I  learned  another  truth,  that  in 
the  union  of  my  first  great  love  I  was  bound  in  mar- 
riage, not  simply  by  a  social  convention,  or  a  state  con- 
tract, but  for  life  by  Nature's  eternal  law.  The  period 
of  infancy  of  one  child  extends  over  twenty-one  years, 
covering  the  whole  maternal  life  of  the  woman  who  mar- 
ries at  the  proper  age  of  twenty-four.  This  union  of  one 


A  New  Lesson  in  Love 


3*7 


man  and  one  woman  never  seemed  so  sacred  to  me  as 
now.  It  is  Nature's  law,  it  is  God's  law." 

MeLeod's  anger  was  fast  rising. 

"Don't  fool  yourself,"  he  sneered,  "You  may  over- 
work your  maternal  intuitions.  You  remember  the  kiss 
you  gave  me  when  a  boy  just  fifteen?  Well,  you  fooled 
yourself  then  about  its  maternal  quality.  The  magnet  of 
my  red  head  drew  your  coal  black  one  down  to  it  with 
irresistible  power." 

"  Perhaps  so,  Allan.  Your  work  is  done.  There  is 
the  door.  I  say  a  last  good-bye,  with  pity  for  your  shal- 
low nature,  and  the  bitter  revelation  you  have  given  me 
of  your  worthlessness." 

Without  another  word  he  left,  but  with  a  dark  resolu- 
tion of  slander  with  which  he  would  tarnish  her  name, 
and  wring  the  Preacher's  heart  with  anguish. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
WHY  THE  PREACHER  THREW  HIS  LIFE  AWAY 

WHILE  Mrs.  Worth  and  Sallie  were  still  in  the 
North,  the  Rev.  John  Durham  received  a 
unanimous  call  to  the  pastorate  of  one  of  the 
most  powerful  Baptist  churches  in  Boston,  with  a 
salary  of  five  thousand  dollars  a  year.  He  was  receiving 
a  salary  of  nine  hundred  dollars  at  Hambright,  which 
could  boast  at  most  a  population  of  two  thousand.  He 
declined  the  call  by  return  mail. 

The  committee  were  thunderstruck  at  this  quick  ad- 
verse decision,  refused  to  consider  it  final,  and  wrote  him 
a  long  urgent  letter  of  protest  against  such  ill-considered 
treatment.  They  urged  that  he  must  come  to  Boston, 
and  preach  one  Sunday,  at  least,  in  answer  to  their  gener- 
ous offer,  before  rendering  a  final  decision.  He  con- 
sented to  do  so,  and  went  to  Boston.  He  sought  Sallie 
the  day  after  his  arrival. 

"  Ah,  my  beautiful  daughter  of  the  South,  it's  good  to 
see  you  shining  here  in  the  midst  of  the  splendours  of  the 
Hub,  the  fairest  of  them  all ! "  he  said  shaking  her  hand 
feelingly. 

"  You  mean  pining,  not  shining,"  she  protested. 

"  That's  better  still .  I  knew  your  heart  was  in  the 
right  place !  " 

"  How  is  he,  Doctor?  "  she  asked. 

"  He's  trying  to  pull  himself  together  with  his  work, 
and  succeeding.  The  shock  of  a  great  sorrow  has  steadied 

328 


Why  the  Preacher  Threw  His  Life  Away   329 

his  nerves,  broadened  his  sympathies,  and  it  will  make 
him  a  man." 

A  look  of  longing  came  over  her  face.  "  I  don't  want 
him  to  be  too  strong  without  me,"  she  faltered. 

"  Never  fear.  He's  so  despondent  at  times  I  have  to 
try  to  laugh  him  out  of  countenance." 

She  smiled  and  pressed  his  hand  for  answer  as  he  rose 
to  go. 

"  How  do  you  like  these  Yankees,  Miss  Sallie?" 

"  I've  been  surprised  and  charmed  beyond  measure 
with  everything  I've  seen !  " 

"You  don't  say  so!  .How?" 

"  Well,  I  thought  they  were  cold-blooded  and  inhospi- 
table. I  never  made  a  more  foolish  mistake.  I  have 
never  been  more  at  home,  or  been  treated  more  graciously 
in  the  South.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  they  seem  like  our 
most  cultured  people  at  home,  warm-hearted,  cordial, 
sensible  and  neighbourly.  Mama  is  so  pleased  she's  try- 
ing to  claim  kin  with  the  Puritans,  through  her  Scotch 
Covenanter  ancestry." 

"  After  all,  I  believe  you  are  right.  I  never  preached 
in  my  life  to  so  sensitive  an  audience.  There's  an  at- 
mosphere of  solid  comfort,  good  sense,  and  intelligence 
that  holds  me  in  a  spell  here.  This  is  the  place  in  which 
I've  dreamed  I'd  like  to  live  and  work." 

"  Then  you  will  accept,  Doctor?  " 

"'Now  listen  to  you,  child!  Don't  you  think  I've  a 
heart  too?  My  brain  and  body  longs  for  such  a  home, 
but  my  heart's  down  South  with  mine  own  people  who 
love  and  need  me." 

The  committee  did  their  best  to  bring  the  Preacher 
to  a  favourable  decision  at  once,  but  he  smiled  a  firm 
refusal.  They  refused  to  report  it  to  the  church,  and 
sent  Deacon  Crane,  now  a  venerable  man  of  seventy-six, 
the  warmest  admirer  of  the  Preacher  among  them  all  to 


330  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Hambright.  They  authorised  him  to  make  an  amazing 
offer  of  salary,  if  that  would  be  any  inducement,  and 
they  felt  sure  it  would. 

When  the  Deacon  reached  Hambright  and  saw  its 
poverty  and  general  air  of  unimportance  he  felt  en- 
couraged. 

"  A  man  of  such  power  stay  a  lifetime  in  this  little 
hole !  Impossible !  "  he  exclaimed  under  his  breath,  when 
he  looked  out  of  the  bus  along  the  wide  deserted  looking 
streets  with  a  straggling  cottage  here  and  there  on  either 
side. 

He  stopped  at  the  same  hotel  with  the  Preacher  and 
became  his  shadow  for  a  week.  He  was  seated  with 
him  under  the  oak  in  the  square,  threshing  over  his  argu- 
ment for  the  hundredth  time,  in  the  most  good-natured, 
but  everlastingly  persistent  way. 

"  Doctor,  it's  perfect  nonsense  for  a  man  of  your  mag- 
nificent talents,  of  your  culture  and  power  over  an  audi- 
ence, to  think  of  living  always  in  a  little  village  like  this !  " 

"  No,  deacon,  my  work  is  here  for  the  South." 

"  But,  my  dear  man,  in  Boston,  it  would  be  for  the 
whole  nation,  North  and  South.  I'll  tell  you  what  we 
will  do.  Say  you  will  come,  and  we  will  make  your 
salary  eight  thousand  a  year.  That's  the  largest  salary 
ever  offered  a  Baptist  preacher  in  America.  You  will 
pack  our  church  with  people,  give  us  new  life,  and  we 
can  afford  it.  You  will  be  a  power  in  Boston,  and  a 
power  in  the  world." 

The  Preacher  smiled  and  was  silent.    At  length  he  said, 

"  I  appreciate  your  offer,  deacon.  You  pay  me  the 
highest  compliment  you  know  how  to  express.  But  you 
prosperous  Yankees  can't  get  into  your  heads  the  idea 
that  there  are  many  things  which  money  can't  measure." 

"  But  we  know  a  good  thing  when  we  see  it,  and  we  go 
for  it !  "  interrupted  the  deacon. 


Why  the  Preacher  Threw  His  Life  Away   331 

"  Believe  me,"  continued  the  Preacher,  "  I  appreciate 
the  sacrifice,  the  generosity,  and  breadth  of  sympathy  this 
offer  shows  in  your  hearts.  But  it  is  not  for  me.  My 
work  is  here.  I  don't  mind  confessing  to  you  that  you 
have  vastly  pleased  me  with  that  offer.  I'll  brag  about 
it  to  myself  the  rest  of  my  life." 

"  But  Doctor,  think  how  much  greater  power  a  gener- 
ous salary  will  give  you  in  furnishing  your  equipment 
for  work,  and  in  ministering  to  any  cause  you  may  have 
at  heart/'  pleaded  the  deacon. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  have  a  salary  of  nine  hundred  dol- 
lars. With  five  hundred  I  buy  books, — food,  clothes,  shel- 
ter, the  companionship  for  the  soul.  The  balance  suffices 
for  the  body.  I  haven't  time  to  bother  with  money.  The 
man  who  receives  a  big  salary  must  live  up  to  its  social 
obligations,  and  he  must  pay  for  it  with  his  life." 

"  Doctor,  there  must  be  some  tremendous  force  that 
holds  you  to  such  a  decision  in  a  village.  It  seems  to  me 
you  are  throwing  your  life  away." 

"  There  is  a  tremendous  force,  deacon.  It  is  the  over- 
whelming sense  of  obligation  I  feel  to  my  own  people 
who  have  suffered  so  much,  and  are  still  in  the  grip  of 
poverty,  and  threatened  with  greater  trials.  I  can't  leave 
my  own  people  while  they  are  struggling  yet  with  this 
unsolved  Negro  problem.  Two  great  questions  shadow 
the  future  of  the  American  people,  the  conflict  between 
Labor  and  Capital,  and  the  conflict  between  the  African 
and  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  The  greatest,  most  danger- 
ous, and  most  hopeless  of  these,  is  the  latter.  My  place 
is  here." 

The  deacon  laughed.  "  You're  a  crank  on  that  subject. 
Come  to  Boston  and  you  will  see  with  a  better  perspective 
that  the  question  is  settling  itself.  In  fact  the  war  abso- 
lutely settled  it." 

"  Deacon,"  said  the  Preacher  with  a  quizzical  expres- 


33 2  The  Leopard's  Spots 

sion  about  his  eyes,  "  Do  you  believe  in  the  doctrine  of 
Election?" 

"  Yes,  I  do." 

"  I  thought  so.  You  know,  I  never  saw  a  man  who 
believed  in  the  doctrine  of  Election  who  didn't  believe  he 
was  elected.  I  never  saw  a  man  in  my  life,  except  a 
lying  politician,  who  declared  the  Negro  problem  was 
settled,  unless  he  had  removed  his  family  to  a  place  of 
fancied  safety  where  he  would  never  come  in  contact 
with  it.  And  they  all  believe  that  the  Negro's  place  is 
in  the  South." 

The  deacon  laughed  good-naturedly. 

"  Come  with  us,  and  we  will  show  you  greater  prob- 
lems. For  one,  the  life  and  death  struggle  of  Christianity 
itself  with  modern  materialism.  I  tell  you  the  Negro 
problem  was  settled  when  slavery  was  destroyed." 

"  You  never  made  a  sadder  mistake.  The  South  did 
not  fight  to  hold  slaves.  Our  Confederate  government 
at  Richmond  offered  to  guarantee  to  Europe,  the  freedom 
of  every  slave  for  the  recognition  of  our  independence. 
Slavery  was  bound  of  its  own  weight  to  fall.  Virginia 
came  within  one  vote  in  her  assembly  of  freeing  her 
slaves  years  before  the  war.  But  for  the  frenzy  of  your 
Abolition  fanatics  who  first  sought  to  destroy  the  Union 
by  Secession,  and  then  forced  Secession  on  the  South,  we 
would  have  freed  the  slaves  before  this  without  a  war, 
from  the  very  necessities  of  the  progress  of  the  material 
world,  to  say  nothing  of  its  moral  progress.  We  fought 
for  the  rights  we  held  under  the  old  constitution,  made 
by  a  slave-holding  aristocracy.  But  we  collided  with 
the  resistless  movement  of  humanity  from  the  idea  of 
local  sovereignty  toward  nationalism,  centralisation, 
solidarity." 

"That's  why  I  say,"  interrupted  the  deacon,  "your 


Why  the  Preacher  Threw  His  Life  Away  333 

Negro  question  has  already  been  settled.  The  nation  ha* 
become  a  reality  not  a  name." 

"And  that  is  why  I  know,  deacon,"  insisted  the 
Preacher,  "that  we  have  not  only  not  settled  this  ques- 
tion,— we  haven't  even  faced  the  issues.  Nationality 
demands  solidarity.  And  you  can  never  get  solidarity 
in  a  nation  of  equal  rights  out  of  two  hostile  races 
that  do  not  intermarry.  In  a  Democracy  you  can  not 
build  a  nation  inside  of  a  nation  of  two  antagonistic  races, 
and  therefore  the  future  American  must  be  either  an 
Anglo  Saxon  or  a  Mulatto.  And  if  a  Mulatto,  will  the 
future  be  worth  discussing  ?  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  in  just  that  way,"  answered  the 
deacon. 

"  It  is  my  work  to  maintain  the  racial  absolutism  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  in  the  South,  politically,  socially,  economi- 
cally." 

"  But  can  it  be  done  ?  I  see  many  evidences  of  a  mix- 
ture of  blood  already,"  said  the  deacon  seriously. 

"  Yes,  we  are  doing  it.  This  mixture  you  observe  has 
no  social  significance,  for  a  simple  reason.  It  is  all  the 
result  of  the  surviving  polygamous  and  lawless  instincts 
of  the  white  male.  Unless  by  the  gradual  encroachments 
of  time,  culture,  wealth  and  political  exigencies,  the  time 
comes  that  a  negro  shall  be  allowed  freely  to  choose  a 
white  woman  for  his  wife,  the  racial  integrity  remains 
intact.  The  right  to  choose  one's  mate  is  the  foundation 
of  racial  life  and  of  civilisation.  The  South  must  guard 
with  flaming  sword  every  avenue  of  approach  to  this  holy 
of  holies.  And  there  are  many  subtle  forces  at  work  to 
obscure  these  possible  approaches." 

"  Well,  no  matter,"  broke  in  the  deacon,  "  come  with 
us,  and  you  will  have  more  power  to  touch  with  your 
ideas  the  wealth  and  virtue  of  the  whole  nation." 


334  The  Leopard's  Spots 

The  Preacher  was  silent  a  moment  and  seemed  to  be 
musing  in  a  sort  of  half  dream.  The  deacon  looked  at 
him  with  a  growing  sense  of  the  hopelessness  of  his  task, 
but  of  surprise  at  this  revelation  of  the  secrets  of  his 
inner  life. 

"  The  South  has  been  voiceless  in  these  later  years," 
he  went  on,  "  her  voice  has  been  drowned  in  a  din  of 
cat-calls  from  an  army  of  cheap  scribblers  and  dema- 
gogues. But  when  these  children  we  are  rearing  down 
here  grow,  rocked  in  their  cradles  of  poverty,  nurtured 
in  the  fierce  struggle  to  save  the  life  of  a  mighty  race, 
they  will  find  speech,  and  their  songs  will  fill  the  world 
with  pathos  and  power. 

"  I've  studied  your  great  cities.  Believe  me  the  South 
is  worth  saving.  Against  the  possible  day  when  a  flood 
of  foreign  anarchy  threatens  the  foundations  of  the  Re- 
public and  men  shall  laugh  at  the  faiths  of  your  fathers, 
and  undigested  wealth  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice 
rots  your  society,  until  it  mocks  at  honour,  love  and 
God — against  that  day  we  will  preserve  the  South !  " 

The  Preacher's  voice  was  now  vibrating  with  deep 
feeling,  and  the  deacon  listened  with  breathless  interest. 
,  "  Believe  me,  deacon,  the  ark  of  the  covenant  of  Ameri- 
can ideals  rests  to-day  on  the  Appalachian  Mountain 
range  of  the  South.  When  your  metropolitan  mobs  shall 
knock  at  the  doors  of  your  life  and  demand  the  reason 
of  your  existence,  from  these  poverty-stricken  homes, 
with  their  old-fashioned,  perhaps  mediaeval  ideas,  will 
come  forth  the  fierce  athletic  sons  and  sweet-voiced 
daughters  in  whom  the  nation  will  find  a  new  birth !  " 
The  Preacher's  eyes  had  filled  with  tears  and  his  voice 
dropped  into  a  low  dream-like  prophecy. 

"  You  can  not  understand,"  he  resumed,  in  a  clear 
voice,  "  why  I  feel  so  profoundly  depressed  just  now  be- 
cause the  Republican  party,  which,  with  you  stands  for 


Why  the  Preacher  Threw  His  Life  Away  335 

the  virtue,  wealth  and  intelligence  of  the  community,  is 
now  in  charge  of  this  state.  I  will  tell  you  why.  A 
Republican  administration  in  North  Carolina  simply 
means  a  Negro  oligarchy.  The  state  is  now  being  de- 
bauched and  degraded  by  this  fact  in  the  innermost  depths 
of  its  character  and  life.  My  place  is  here  in  this  fight." 

"  But,  Doctor,  will  not  your  industrial  training  of  the 
Negro  gradually  minimise  any  danger  to  your  society  ?  " 

"  No,  it  will  gradually  increase  it.  Industrial  training 
gives  power.  If  the  Negro  ever  becomes  a  serious  com- 
petitor of  the  white  labourer  in  the  industries  of  the  South, 
the  white  man  will  kill  him,  just  as  your  labour  Unions 
do  in  the  North  now  where  the  conditions  of  life  are  hard, 
and  men  fight  with  tooth  and  nail  for  bread.  If  you  train 
the  negroes  to  be  scientific  farmers  they  will  become  a 
race  of  aristocrats,  and  when  five  generations  removed 
from  the  memory  of  slavery,  a  war  of  races  will  be  in- 
evitable, unless  the  Anglo-Saxon  grant  this  trained  and 
wealthy  African  equal  social  rights.  The  Anglo-Saxon 
can  not  do  this  without  suicide.  One  drop  of  Negro 
blood  makes  a  negro." 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am,  Doctor,  that  I  can't 
persuade  you  to  become  our  pastor.  But  I  can  under- 
stand since  this  talk  something  of  the  larger  views  of 
your  duty." 

The  deacon  sought  Mrs.  Durham  that  evening  and  laid 
siege  to  her  resolutely. 

"  Ah !  deacon,  you're  shrewd — you  are  going  to  flatter 
me,  but  I  can't  let  you.  I'm  an  old  fogy  and  out  of  date. 
I'm  not  orthodox  on  the  Negro  from  Boston's  point 
of  view." 

"  Nonsense !  "  growled  the  deacon.  "  We  don't  care 
what  you  or  the  Doctor  either  thinks  about  the  Negro, 
or  the  Jap,  or  the  Chinaman.  We  want  a  preacher  ira- 


336  The  Leopard's  Spots 

bued  with  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  preach  the 
Gospel  of  Christ." 

"  Well,  you  have  quite  captured  me  since  you  have 
been  here.  You  are  a  revelation  to  me  of  what  a  deacon 
might  be  to  a  pastor  and  his  wife.  To  be  frank  with  you, 
I  am  on  your  side.  I  am  tired  of  the  Negro.  I  don't 
want  to  solve  him.  He  is  an  impossible  job  from  my 
point  of  view.  I  should  be  delighted  to  go  to  Boston  now 
and  begin  life  over  again.  But  I  do  not  figure  in  the 
decision.  Dr.  Durham  settles  such  questions  for  himself. 
And  I  respect  him  more  for  it." 

Encouraged  by  this  decision  of  his  wife  the  deacon 
renewed  his  efforts  to  change  the  Preacher's  mind  next 
day  in  vain.  He  stayed  over  Sunday,  heard  him  preach 
two  sermons,  and  sorrowfully  bade  him  good-bye  on 
Monday.  He  carried  back  to  Boston  his  final  word  de- 
clining this  call. 

As  the  deacon  stepped  on  the  train,  he  warmly  pressed 
his  hand  and  said,  "  God  bless  you,  Doctor.  If  you  ever 
need  a  friend,  you  know  my  name  and  address." 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  FLESH  AND  THE  SPIRIT 

G  ASTON  tried  to  wait  in  patience  another  week 
for  a  word  from  the  woman  he  loved,  and  when 
the  last  mail  came  and  brought  no  letter  for 
him,  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  deepest  soul 
crisis  of  his  life. 

After  all,  thoughts  are  things.  The  report  of  her  so- 
cial frivolities  at  first  made  little  impression  on  him.  But 
the  thought  had  fallen  in  his  heart,  and  it  was  growing 
a  poisoned  weed. 

It  is  possible  to  kill  the  human  body  with  an  idea.  The 
fairest  day  the  spring  ever  sent  can  be  blackened  and 
turned  from  sunshine  into  storm  by  the  flitting  of  a  little 
cloud  of  thought  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand. 

So  Gaston  found  this  report  of  dancing  and  flirting  in 
a  gay  society  by  the  woman  whom  he  had  enthroned  in 
the  holy  of  holies  of  his  soul  to  be  destroying  his  strength 
of  character,  and  like  a  deadly  cancer  eating  his  heart  out. 

•He  sat  down  by  his  window  that  night,  unable  to  work, 
and  tried  to  reconcile  such  a  life  with  his  ideal. 

"  Why  should  I  be  so  provincial !  "  he  mused.  "  The 
thing  only  shocks  me  because  I  am  unused  to  it.  She 
has  grown  up  in  this  atmosphere.  To  her  it  is  a  harm- 
less pastime." 

Then  he  took  out  of  his  desk  her  picture,  lit  his 
lamp  and  looked  long  and  tenderly  at  it,  until  his  soul 
was  drunk  again  with  the  memory  of  her  beauty,  the 

337 


338  The  Leopard's  Spots 

warm  touch  of  her  hand,  and  the  thrill  of  her  full  soft 
lips  in  the  only  two  kisses  he  had  ever  received  from  the 
heart  of  a  woman. 

Then,  the  vision  of  a  ball-room  came  to  torture  him. 
He  could  see  her  dressed  in  that  delicate  creation  of 
French  genius  he  had  seen  her  wear  the  memorable  night 
at  the  Springs.  The  French  know  so  deeply  the  subtle 
art  of  draping  a  woman's  body  to  tempt  the  souls  of  men . 
How  he  cursed  them  to-night!  He  could  see  her  bare 
arms,  white  gleaming  shoulders,  neck,  and  back,  and 
round  full  bosom  softly  rising  and  falling  with  her 
breathing,  as  she  swept  through  a  brilliant  ball-room  to 
the  strains  of  entrancing  music . 

He  knew  the  dance  was  a  social  convention,  of  course . 
But  its  deep  Nature  significance  he  knew  also.  He  knew 
that  it  was  as  old  as  human  society,  and  full  of  a  thou- 
sand subtle  suggestions, — that  it  was  the  actual  touch  of 
the  human  body,  with  rhythmic  movement,  set  to  the 
passionate  music  of  love.  This  music  spoke  in  quivering 
melody  what  the  lips  did  not  dare  to  say.  This  he  knew 
was  the  deep  secret  of  the  fascination  of  the  dance  for 
the  boy  and  the  girl,  the  man  and  the  woman.  How  he 
cursed  it  to-night! 

His  imagination  leaped  the  centuries  that  separate  us 
from  the  great  races  of  the  past  who  scorned  humbug 
and  hypocrisy,  and  held  their  dances  in  the  deep  shadows 
of  great  forests,  without  the  draperies  of  tailors .  These 
men  and  women  looked  Nature  in  the  face  and  were  not 
afraid,  and  did  not  try  to  apologise  or  lie  about  it.  He 
felt  humiliated  and  betrayed. 

He  thought  too  of  her  wealth  with  a  feeling  of  resent- 
ment and  isolation.  Taken  with  this  social  nightmare  it 
seemed  to  raise  an  impossible  barrier  between  them.  He 
knew  that  in  the  terrible  quarrel  she  had  with  her  father 
on  their  first  clash*  he  had  sworn  if  she  disobeyed  him  to 


The  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  339 

disinherit  her.  She  had  answered  him  in  bitter  defiance. 
And  yet  time  often  changes  these  noble  visions  of  poverty 
and  strenuous  faith  in  high  ideals.  Wealth  and  all  its 
good  things  becomes  with  us  at  last  habit.  And  habit  is 
life. 

Could  it  be  possible  she  had  weakened  in  resolution  of 
loyalty  when  brought  face  to  face  with  the  actual  break- 
ing of  the  habits  of  a  lifetime?  Might  not  the  three 
forces  combined,  the  habit  of  social  conventions,  the 
habit  of  luxury,  and  the  habit  of  obedience  to  a  master- 
ful and  lovable  father,  be  sufficient  to  crush  her  love  at 
last?  It  seemed  to  him  to-night,  not  only  a  possibility, 
but  almost  an  accomplished  fact. 

At  one  o'clock  he  went  to  bed  and  tried  to  sleep.  He 
tossed  for  an  hour.  His  brain  was  on  fire,  and  his 
imagination  lit  with  its  glare.  He  could  sweep  the 
world  with  his  vision  in  the  silence  and  the  darkness. 
Yes,  the  world  that  is,  and  that  which  was,  and  is  to 
come! 

He  arose  and  dressed.  It  was  half-past  two  o'clock. 
He  knew  that  this  was  to  be  the  first  night  in  all  his  life 
when  he  could  not  sleep.  He  was  shocked  and  sobered 
by  the  tremendous  import  of  such  an  event  in  the  develop- 
ment of  his  character.  He  had  never  been  swept  off  his 
feet  before.  He  knew  now  that  before  the  sun  rose  he 
would  fight  with  the  powers  and  princes  of  the  air  for 
the  mastery  of  life. 

He  left  his  room  and  walked  out  on  the  road  to  the 
Springs  over  which  he  had  gone  so  many  times  in  child- 
hood. The  moon  was  obscured  by  fleeting  clouds,  and 
the  air  had  the  sharp  touch  of  autumn  in  its  breath.  He 
walked  slowly  past  the  darkened  silent  houses  and  felt 
his  brain  begin  to  cool  in  the  sweet  air. 

The  last  note  he  had  received  from  her  weeks  ago  was 
the  brief  one  announcing  the  new  break  in  the  poor  little 


340  The  Leopard's  Spots 

correspondence  she  had  promised  him.  The  last  para- 
graph of  that  note  now  took  on  a  sinister  meaning.  He 
recalled  it  word  by  word : 

"  I  feel  like  I  can  not  trifle  with  you  in  this  way  again. 
It  is  humiliating  to  me  and  to  you.  I  can  see  no  light  in 
our  future.  I  release  you  from  any  tie  I  may  have  im- 
posed on  your  life.  I  feel  I  have  fallen  short  of  what  you 
deserve,  but  I  am  so  situated  between  my  mother's  fail- 
ing health  and  my  father's  will,  and  my  love  for  them 
both,  I  can  not  help  it.  I  will  love  you  always,  but  you 
are  free." 

Was  not  this  a  kindly  and  final  breaking  of  their 
pledge  to  one  another?  Yet  she  had  not  returned 
the  little  medal  he  had  given  her  with  that  exchange  of 
eternal  love  and  faith.  Could  she  keep  this  and  really 
mean  to  break  with  him  finally  ?  He  could  not  believe  it. 

His  whole  life  had  been  dominated  by  this  dream  of  an 
ideal  love.  For  it  he  had  denied  himself  the  indulgences 
that  his  college  mates  and  young  associates  had  taken  as 
a  matter  of  course.  He  had  never  touched  wine.  He 
had  never  smoked.  He  had  never  learned  the  difference 
between  a  queen  and  jack  in  cards.  He  had  kept  away 
from  women.  He  had  given  his  body  and  soul  to  the 
service  of  his  Ideal,  and  bent  every  energy  to  the  develop- 
ment of  his  mind  that  he  might  grasp  with  more  power 
its  sweetness  and  beauty  when  realised. 

Did  it  pay?  The  Flesh  was  shrieking  this  question 
now  into  the  face  of  the  Spirit  ? 

He  had  met  the  One  Woman  his  soul  had  desired  above 
all  others.  There  could  be  no  mistake  about  that.  And 
now  she  was  failing  him  when  he  had  laid  at  her  feet  his 
life.  It  made  him  sick  to  recall  how  utter  had  been  his 
surrender. 

Why  should  he  longer  deny  the  flesh,  when  the  soul's 
dream  failed  the  test  of  pain  and  struggle? 


The  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  341 

Was  it  possible  that  he  had  been  a  fool  and  was  miss- 
ing the  full  expression  of  life,  which  is  both  flesh  and 
spirit  ? 

The  world  was  full  of  sweet  odours.  He  had  delicate 
and  powerful  nostrils.  Why  not  enjoy  them?  The  world 
was  full  of  beauty  ravishing  to  the  eye.  He  had  keen 
eyes  trained  to  see.  Why  should  he  not  open  his  eyes 
and  gaze  on  it  all?  The  world  was  full  of  entrancing 
music.  He  had  ears  trained  to  hear.  Why  should  he 
stuff  them  with  dreams  of  a  doubtful  future,  and  not 
hear  it  all?  The  world  was  full  of  things  soft  and 
good  to  the  touch.  Why  should  he  not  grasp  them  ?  His 
hands  were  cunning,  and  every  finger  tingled  with  sen- 
sitive nerve  tips.  The  world  was  full  of  good  things 
sweet  to  the  taste,  why  should  he  not  eat  and  drink  as 
others,  as  old  and  wise  perhaps? 

Was  a  man  full-grown  until  he  had  seen,  felt,  smelled, 
tasted,  and  heard  all  life?  Was  there  anything  after 
all,  in  good  or  bad*?  Were  these  things  not  names?  If 
not,  how  could  we  know  unless  we  tried  them?  What 
was  the  good  of  good  things  ? 

"  Am  I  not  a  narrow-minded  fool,  instead  of  a  wise 
man,  to  throttle  my  impulses  and  deny  the  flesh  for  an 
imaginary  gain?  "  he  asked  himself  aloud. 

She  had  written  he  was  free. 

"  Well,  by  the  eternal,  I  will  be  free !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"  I  will  sweep  the  whole  gamut  of  human  passion  and 
human  emotion.  I  will  drink  life  to  the  deepest  dregs  of 
its  red  wine.  I  will  taste,  feel,  see,  touch,  hear  all!  I 
will  not  be  cheated.  I  will  know  for  myself  what  it  is  to 
live." 

When  he  woke  to  the  consciousness  of  time  and  place, 
he  found  he  was  seated  at  the  Sulphur  Spring  where  it 
gushed  from  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  that  the  eastern 
horizon  was  grey  with  the  dawn. 


342  The  Leopard's  Spots 

A  sense  of  new-found  power  welled  up  in  him.  He 
had  regained  control  of  himself. 

"  Good !  I  will  no  longer  be  a  moping  love-sick  fool. 
I  am  a  man.  To  will  is  to  live,  to  cease  to  will  is  to  die . 
I  have  regained  my  will, — I  live !  " 

He  walked  rapidly  back  to  town  with  vigourous  step. 
His  mind  was  clear. 

"  I  will  never  write  her  another  line  until  she  writes  to 
me.  I  will  not  be  a  dog  and  whine  at  any  rich  man's  door 
or  any  woman's  feet.  The  world  is  large,  and  I  am  large. 
I  will  be  sought  as  well  as  seek.  Besides,  my  country 
needs  me.  If  I  am  to  give  myself  it  will  be  for  larger 
ends  than  for  the  smiles  of  one  woman !  " 

And  then  for  two  weeks  he  entered  deliberately  on  a 
series  of  dissipations.  He  left  Hambright  and  sought 
convivial  friends  on  the  sea  coast.  He  amazed  them  by 
asking  to  be  taught  cards. 

He  swept  the  gamut  of  all  the  senses  without  reserve, 
day  after  day,  and  night  after  night. 

At  the  end  of  two  weeks  he  found  himself  haunting  the 
post-office  oftener,  with  a  vague  sense  of  impending  cal- 
amity. 

"  The  thing's  all  over  I  tell  you ! "  he  said  to  himself* 
again  and  again.  And  then  he  would  hurry  to  the  next 
mail  as  eagerly  as  ever.  As  the  excitement  began  to  tire 
him,  the  sense  of  longing  for  her  face,  and  voice,  and  the 
touch  of  her  hand  became  intolerable. 

*"  My  God,  I'd  give  all  the  world  holds  of  sin  to  see  her 
and  hear  one  word  from  her  lips !  "  he  exclaimed  as  he 
locked  himself  in  his  room  one  night. 

"  Why  didn't  she  answer  my  last  letter  ?  "  he  continued. 
"Ah,  that  was  the  best  letter  I  ever  wrote  her.  I  put 
my  soul  in  every  word.  I  didn't  believe  the  woman  lived 
who  could  read  such  confessions  and  such  worship  with- 
out reply  *  Surely  she  has  a  heart  1 " 


The  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  345 

When  he  went  to  the  post-office  next  day  he  got  a 
letter  forwarded  from  Hambright  by  the  Preacher.  It 
was  postmarked  Narragansett  Pier,  and  addressed  in  a 
bold  masculine  hand  he  had  never  seen  before. 

He  tore  it  open,  and  inside  found  his  last  letter  to 
Sallie  Worth,  returned  with  the  seal  unbroken.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet  with  flashing  eyes,  trembling  from 
head  to  foot. 

"  Ah !  they  did  not  dare  to  let  her  receive  another  of 
my  letters !  So  a  clerk  returns  it  unopened,"  he  cried. 

And  a  great  lump  rose  in  his  throat  as  he  thought  of 
the  scenes  of  the  past  two  weeks.  The  old  fever  and  the 
old  longing  came  rushing  over  his  prostrate  soul  now  in  « 
resistless  torrents :  "  How  dare  a  strange  hand  touch 
a  message  to  her!  I  could  strangle  him.  We  will  see 
now  who  wins  the  fight."  He  set  his  lips  with  determina- 
tion, packed  his  valise,  and  took  the  train  for  home 
without  a  word  of  farewell  to  the  companions  of  his 
revels. 

When  he  reached  Hambright  he  felt  sure  of  a  letter 
from  her.  A  strange  joy  filled  his  heart. 

"  I  have  either  got  a  letter  or  she's  writing  one  to  me 
this  minute !  "  he  exclaimed. 

He  went  to  the  post-office  in  a  state  of  exhilaration. 
The  letter  was  not  there.  But  it  did  not  depress  him. 

"  It  is  on  the  way,"  he  quickly  said. 

For  two  days,  he  remained  in  that  condition  of  tense 
nervous  excitement  and  expectation,  and  on  the  follow- 
ing day  he  opened  his  box  and  found  his  letter . 

"  I  knew  it ! "  he  said  with  a  thrill  of  joy  that  was 
half  awe  at  the  remarkable  confirmation  he  had  received 
of  their  sympathy. 

He  hurried  to  his  office  and  read  the  big  precious  mes- 
sage. 

How   its   words   burned   into  his   soul!     Every   line 


344  The  Leopard's  Spots 

seemed  alive  with  her  spirit.  How  beautiful  the  sight 
of  her  handwriting !  He  kissed  it  again  and  again.  He 
read  with  bated  breath.  The  address  was  double  expres- 
sive, because  it  contained  the  first  words  of  abandoned 
tenderness  with  which  she  had  ever  written  to  him,  ex- 
cept in  the  concealed  message  dotted  in  the  note  that 
broke  their  earlier  correspondence. 

"  My  Precious  Darling : — I  have  gone  through  deep 
waters  within  the  last  three  weeks.  I  became  so  de- 
pressed and  hungry  to  see  you,  I  felt  some  awful  calamity 
was  hanging  over  you  and  over  me,  and  that  it  was  my 
fault.  I  could  scarcely  eat  or  sleep. 

I  felt  I  should  go  mad  if  I  did  not  speak  and  so  I  told 
Mama.  She  sympathised  tenderly  with  me  but  insisted 
I  should  not  write.  She  is  so  feeble  I  could  not  cross 
her.  But  Oh!  the  agony  of  it!  Sometimes  I  saw  you 
drowning  and  stretching  out  your  hands  to  me  for  help. 

Sometimes  in  my  dreams  I  saw  you  fighting  against 
overwhelming  odds  with  strong  brutal  men,  whose  faces 
were  full  of  hate,  and  I  could  not  reach  you . 

I  was  nervous  and  unstrung,  but  you  can  never  know 
how  real  the  horror  of  it  all  was  upon  me. 

I  made  up  my  mind  one  night  to  telegraph  you.  I 
heard  some  one  talking  inside  Mama's  room.  I  gently 
opened  the  door  between  our  rooms,  and  she  was  pray- 
ing aloud  for  me.  I  stood  spellbound.  I  never  knew 
how  she  loved  me  before.  When  at  last  she  prayed 
that  in  the  end  I  might  have  the  desire  of  my  heart,  and 
my  life  be  crowned  with  the  joy  of  a  noble  man's  love, 
and  that  it  might  be  yours,  and  that  she  should  be  per- 
mitted to  see  and  rejoice  with  me,  I  could  endure  it  no 
longer. 

Choking  with  sobs  I  ran  to  her  kneeling  figure,  threw 
my  arms  around  her  neck  and  covered  her  dear  face  with 
kisses. 


The  Flesh  and  the  Spirit  34$ 

I  could  not  send  the  message  I  had  written  after  that 
scene. 

The  next  day  Papa  came,  and  she  told  him  in  my 
presence,  '  Now,  General  I  have  carried  out  your  wishes 
with  Sallie  against  my  judgment.  The  strain  has  been 
more  than  you  can  understand.  I  give  up  the  task.  You 
can  manage  her  now  to  suit  yourself.' 

There  was  a  firmness  in  her  voice  I  had  never  heard 
before.  He  noted  it,  and  was  startled  into  silence  by  it. 
He  had  a  long  talk  with  me  and  repeated  his  orders  with 
increasing  emphasis. 

The  next  day  I  was  unusually  depressed.  I  did  not 
get  out  of  bed  all  day.  At  night  I  went  down  to  supper. 
The  clerk  at  the  desk  of  the  hotel  called  me  and  said, 
'  Miss  Worth,  I  have  a  terrible  sin  to  confess  to  you. 
I'm  a  lover  myself,  and  I've  done  you  a  wrong.  I  re- 
turned to  a  young  man  yesterday  a  letter  to  you  by  re- 
quest of  the  General.  Forgive  me  for  it,  and  don't  tell 
him  I  told  you/ 

That  night  Papa  and  I  had  a  fearful  scene.  I  will  not 
attempt  to  describe  it.  But  the  end  was,  I  said  to  him 
with  all  the  courage  of  despair:  I  am  twenty-one  years 
old.  I  am  a  free  woman.  I  will  write  to  whom  I  please 
and  when  1  please  and  I  will  not  ask  you  again.  It  is 
your  right  to  turn  me  out  of  your  house,  but  you  shall 
not  murder  my  soul ! 

Then  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  Papa  broke  down 
and  sobbed  like  a  child.  We  kissed  and  made  up,  and  I 
am  to  write  to  you  when  I  like. 

Forgive  my  long  silence.  Write  and  tell  me  you  love 
me.  My  heart  is  sick  with  the  thought  that  I  have  been 
cowardly  and  failed  you.  Write  me  a  long  letter,  and 
you  can  not  say  things  extravagant  enough  for  my  hun- 
gry heart. 

I  feel  utterly  helpless  when  I  think  how  completely  you 


346  The  Leopard's  Spots 

have  come  to  rule  my  life.  I  wish  you  to  rule  it.  It  is 
all  yours  " 

And  then  she  said  many  little  foolish  things  that  only 
the  eyes  of  the  one  lover  should  ever  see,  for  only  to 
him  could  they  have  meaning. 

When  he  finished  reading  this  letter,  and  had  devoured 
with  eagerness  these  foolish  extravagances  with  which 
she  closed  it,  he  buried  his  face  in  his  arms  across  his 
desk. 

A  big  strong  boastful  man  whose  will  had  defied  the 
world !  Now  he  was  crying  like  a  whipped  child. 


THE  TRIAL  BY  FIRE 


JBoofc  ttbree— Ube  ttrial  b£  jffee 

CHAPTER  I 
A  GROWL  BENEATH  THE  EARTH 

APPARENTLY  McLeod's  triumph  was  complete 
and  permanent.  The  farmers  were  disappointed 
in  their  wild  hopes  of  a  sub-treasury,  and  other 
socialistic  schemes,  but  the  passions  of  the  campaign  had 
been  violent,  and  the  offices  they  had  won  with  their 
Negro  ally  had  been  soothing  to  their  sense  of  pride0 

A  Republican  farmer  was  Governor  for  a  term  of  four 
years,  they  had  elected  two  Senators,  and  three  Supreme 
Court  judges,  and  they  had  completely  smashed  the  power 
of  the  Democratic  party  in  the  county  governments. 
Everywhere  they  were  triumphant  in  the  local  elections, 
filling  almost  every  county  office  with  heavy-handed  sons 
of  toil  from  the  country  districts,  and  making  the  town 
fops  who  had  been  drawing  these  fat  salaries  get  out  and 
work  for  a  living. 

Even  McLeod  was  amazed  at  the  thoroughness  with 
which  they  cleaned  the  state  of  every  vestige  of  the  in- 
vincible Democracy  that  had  ruled  with  a  rod  of  iron 
since  Legree's  flight. 

Gaston  could  see  but  one  weak  spot  in  the  alliance. 
The  negroes  had  demanded  their  share  of  the  spoils,  and 
were  gradually  forcing  their  reluctant  allies  to  grant  them. 
He  watched  the  progress  of  this  movement  with  thrill- 
ing interest.  The  negroes  had  demanded  the  repeal  of 

3* 


350  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  county  government  plan  of  the  Democracy,  under 
which  the  credit  of  the  forty  black  counties  had  been 
rescued  from  bankruptcy  at  the  expense  of  local  self- 
government. 

When  the  lawmakers  who  succeeded  Legree  had  put 
tftis  scheme  of  centralised  power  in  force,  these  forty 
counties  were  immediately  lifted  from  ruin  to  prosperity. 
But  no  negro  ever  held  another  office  in  them. 

Now  the  negroes  demanded  the  return  to  the  principles 
of  pure  Democracy  and  the  right  to  elect  all  town,  town- 
ship, and  county  officers  direct.  They  got  their  demands. 
They  took  charge  in  short  order  of  the  great  rich  coun- 
ties in  the  Black  Belt,  and  white  men  ceased  to  Hold  the 
offices.  / 

A  negro  college-graduate  from  Miss  Walker's  classical 
institution  had  started  a  newspaper  at  Independence  noted 
for  its  open  demands  for  the  recognition  of  the  economic, 
social  and  political  equality  of  the  races.  Young  negro 
men  and  women  walking  the  streets  now  refused  to  give 
half  the  sidewalk  to  a  white  man  or  woman  when  they 
met,  and  there  were  an  increasing  number  of  fights  from 
such  causes. 

Gaston  noted  these  signs  with  a  growing  sense  of  their 
import,  and  began  his  work  for  the  second  great  cam- 
paign. The  election  for  a  legislature  alone,  he  knew  was 
lost  already.  His  party  had  simply  abandoned  the  fight. 
The  Allied  Party  had  passed  new  election  laws,  and 
under  the  tutelage  of  the  doubtful  methods  of  the  past 
they  had  taken  every  partisan  advantage  possible  within 
the  limits  of  the  Constitution.  They  could  not  be  over- 
thrown short  oi  a  political  earthquake,  and  he  knew  it. 
But  he  thought  he  heard  in  the  depths  of  the  earth  the 
low  rumble  of  its  coming,  and  he  began  to  prepare  for  it, 


CHAPTER  II 
FACE  TO  FACE  WITH  FATE  ^ 

THREE  weeks  before  Christmas  Gaston  began  tc 
dream  of  the  visit  he  was  to  make  to  Inde- 
pendence to  see  Sallie  Worth.  How  long  it 
seemed  since  she  had  kissed  him  in  the  twilight  of  that 
Pullman  car  and  the  Limited  had  rolled  away  bearing 
her  further  and  further  from  his  life !  He  would  sit  now 
for  an  hour  reading  her  last  letter,  looking  at  her 
picture  on  his  desk,  and  dreaming  of  what  she  would  say 
when  he  sat  by  her  side  again  in  her  own  home. 

And  then  like  a  thunderbolt  out  of  a  clear  sky  came 
a  tearful  letter  announcing  another  storm  at  home.  Her 
father  had  again  forbidden  her  to  write.  She  said,  at 
the  last,  that  Gaston 's  visit  must  be  postponed  indefinitely 
for  the  present.  He  gazed  at  the  letter  with  a  hardened 
look. 

"  I  will  go.  I'll  face  General  Worth  in  his  own  home, 
and  demand  his  reasons  for  such  treatment.  I  am  a  man. 
I  am  entitled  to  the  respect  of  a  man."  He  made  this 
declaration  with  a  quiet  force  that  left  no  doubt  about 
his  doing  it. 

He  wrote  Sallie  that  he  could  not  and  would  not  en- 
dure such  a  fight  in  the  dark  with  the  General,  and  that 
he  was  going  to  Independence  on  the  day  before  Christ- 
mas as  she  had  planned  at  first,  to  have  it  out  with  him 
face  to  face. 

She  wrote  in  reply  and  begged  Kim  under  no  circuit 
351 


The  Leopard's  Spots 

stances  to  come  until  conditions  were  more  favourable. 
He  got  this  letter  the  day  before  he  was  to  start. 

"  I'll  go  and  I'll  see  him  if  I  have  to  fight  my  way  into 
his  house,  that's  all  there  is  to  it !  "  he  exclaimed. 

When  he  reached  Independence,  St.  Clare  met  him 
at  the  depot,  and  gave  him  an  eager  welcome. 

"  I've  been  expecting  you,  you  hard-headed  fool !  "  he 
said  impulsively. 

"  Well,  your  words  are  not  equal  to  your  handshake. 
What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Gaston. 

"  You  know  what's  the  matter.  Miss  Sallie  has  been 
to  see  me  this  afternoon,  and  begged  me  to  chain  you 
at  my  house  if  you  came  to  town  to-day." 

"  Well,  you'll  need  handcuffs,  and  help  to  get  them 
on,"  replied  Gaston  with  quiet  decision. 

"  Look  here,  old  boy,  you're  not  going  down  to  that 
house  to-night  with  the  old  man  threatening  to  kill  you 
on  sight,  and  your  girl  bordering  on  collapse ! " 

"  I  am.  I've  been  bordering  on  collapse  for  some  time 
myself.  I'm  getting  used  to  it." 

"  You're  a  fool." 

"  Granted,  but  I'll  risk  it." 

"  But,  man,  I  tell  you  Miss  Sallie  will  be  furious  with 
you  if  you  go  after  all  the  messages  she  has  sent  you." 

"  I'll  risk  her  fury  too." 

"  Gaston,  let  me  beg  you  not  to  do  it." 

"  I'm  going,  Bob.  It  isn't  any  use  for  you  to  waste 
your  breath." 

"  You  know  where  my  heart  is,  old  chum,"  said  Bob, 
yielding  reluctantly.  "  I  couldn't  go  down  to  that  house 
to-night  under  the  conditions  you  are  going  for  the 
world." 

"  Why  not?    It's  the  manly  thing  to  do." 

"  It's  a  dangerous  thing  to  do.  Fathers  have  killed 
men  under  such  conditions." 


Face  to  Face  with  Fate  353 

"  Well,  I'll  risk  it.  I'm  going  as  soon  as  I  can  brush 
up  a  little." 

Bob  walked  with  him  to  the  outskirts  of  the  city, 
begging  in  vain  that  he  should  turn  back,  but  he  never 
slacked  his  pace. 

When  he  turned  to  go  home,  Bob  pressed  his  hand  and 
said  "  Good  luck.  And  may  your  shadow  never  grow 
less." 

Gaston  walked  rapidly  on  toward  Oakwood.  As  he 
passed  through  the  shadows  of  the  forest  near  the  gate, 
a  flood  of  tender  memories  rushed  over  him.  He  was 
back  again  by  her  side  on  that  morning  he  met  her,  with 
the  first  flush  of  love  thrilling  his  life.  He  could  see 
her  looking  earnestly  at  him  as  though  trying  to  solve 
a  riddle.  He  could  hear  her  laughter  full  of  joy  and 
happiness.  As  he  turned  into  the  gateway  the  house 
flashed  on  him  its  gleaming  windows  from  the  hill  top. 
He  felt  his  heart  sink  with  bitterness  as  he  realised  the 
contrast  of  his  last  entrance  into  that  house,  its  welcomed 
guest,  and  his  present  unbidden  intrusion.  Once  those 
lights  had  gleamed  only  a  message  of  peace  and  love. 
Now  they  seemed  signals  of  war  some  enemy  had  set 
on  the  hill  to  warn  of  his  approach. 

He  paused  a  moment  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
his  brow.  It  was  Christmas  eve,  but  the  air  was  balmy 
and  spring-like  and  his  rapid  walk  had  tired  him.  He 
had  eaten  nothing  all  day,  had  slept  only  a  few  hours  the 
night  before,  and  the  nerve  strain  had  been  more  than 
he  knew. 

He  looked  up  at  the  great  white  pillars  softly  shining 
in  the  starlight,  and  a  sickening  fear  of  a  possible  tragedy 
behind  those  doors  crept  over  him. 

"  My  God ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  had  rather  charge  a 
breastworks  in  the  face  of  flashing  guns  than  to  go  into 
that  house  to-night  and  meet  one  man ! " 


354  The  Leopard's  Spots 

He  recognised  the  breach  of  the  finer  amenities  of  life 
involved  in  forcing  his  way  into  a  home  under  such  con- 
ditions, and  it  humiliated  him  for  a  moment 

"  We  will  not  stickle  for  forms  now,"  he  said  to  him- 
self firmly.  "  This  is  war.  I  am  to  uncover  the  batteries 
of  my  enemy.  I  have  hesitated  long  enough.  I  will  not 
fight  in  the  dark  another  day." 

As  he  stepped  briskly  up  to  the  door,  he  started  at  a 
sudden  thought.  What  if  the  General  had  ordered  the 
servants  to  slam  the  door  in  his  face !  The  possibility  of 
such  an  unforeseen  insult  made  the  cold  sweat  break  out 
over  his  face  as  he  rang  the  bell.  No  matter,  he  was  in 
for  it  now,  he  would  face  hell  if  need  be ! 

He  waited  but  an  instant,  and  heard  the  heavy  tread 
of  a  man  approach  the  door.  Instinctively  he  knew  that 
the  General  himself  was  on  guard,  and  would  open  the 
door.  Evidently  he  had  expected  him. 

The  door  opened  about  two  feet  and  the  General  glared 
at  him  livid  with  rage.  He  held  one  hand  on  the  door 
and  the  other  on  its  facing,  and  his  towering  figure  filled 
the  space. 

"  Good  evening,  General !  "  said  Gaston  with  embarrass- 
ment. 

"  What  do  you  want,  sir?  "  he  growledo 

"  I  wish  to  see  you  for  a  few  minutes." 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  see  you." 

"  Whether  you  wish  to  or  not,  you  must  do  it  sooner 
of  later,"  answered  Gaston  with  dignity. 

"  Indeed !    Your  insolence  is  sublime,  I  must  say !  " 

"  The  sooner  you  and  I  have  a  plain  talk  the  better  for 
both  of  us.  It  can't  be  put  off  any  longer,"  Gaston 
continued  with  self  control.  He  was  looking  the  General 
straight  in  the  eyes  now,  with  head  and  broad  shoulders 
erect  and  his  square-cut  jaws  were  snapping  his  words 


Face  to  Face  with  Fate  355 

with  a  clean  emphasis  that  was  not  lost  on  the  older 
master  of  men  before  him. 

"  Call  at  my  office  in  the  morning  at  ten  o'clock,"  he 
said,  at  length. 

"  I  will  not  do  it.  I  am  going  home  on  the  nine  o'clock 
train.  To-morrow  is  Christmas  day.  The  issue  between 
us  is  of  life  import  to  me,  and  it  may  be  of  equal  im- 
portance to  you.  I  will  not  put  it  off  another  hour !  " 

The  General  glared  at  him.  His  hands  began  to 
tremble,  and  raising  his  voice,  he  thundered, 

"  I  am  not  accustomed  to  take  orders  from  young  up- 
starts .  How  dare  you  attempt  to  force  yourself  into  my 
house  when  you  were  told  again  and  again  not  to  attempt 
it,  sir?" 

"  Your  former  welcome  to  me  on  three  occasions  when 
the  object  of  my  visits  was  as  well  known  to  you  as  to 
me,  gives  me,  at  least,  the  vested  rights  of  a  final  inter- 
view. I  demand  it,"  retorted  Gaston  curtly. 

"And  I  refuse  it!"  Still  there  was  a  note  of  inde- 
cision in  his  voice  which  Gaston  was  quick  to  catch. 

"  General,"  he  protested,  "  you  are  a  soldier  and  a 
gentleman.  You  never  fought  an  enemy  with  uncivilised 
warfare.  Yet  you  have  allowed  some  one  under  your 
protection  to  stab  me  in  the  dark  for  the  past  year.  I  am 
entitled  to  know  why  I  fight  and  against  whom.  I  ask 
your  sense  of  fairness  as  a  soldier  if  I  am  not  right  ?  " 

The  General  hesitated,  and  finally  said,  as  he  opened 
the  door, 

"  Walk  into  the  parlour." 

When  they  were  seated,  Gaston  plunged  immediately 
into  the  question  he  had  at  heart. 

"  Now,  General,  I  wish  to  ask  you  plainly  why  you 
have  treated  me  as  you  have  since  I  asked  you  for  your 
daughter's  hand  ?  " 


356  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  The  less  said  about  it,  the  better.  I  have  good  and 
sufficient  reasons,  and  that  settles  it." 

"  But  I  have  the  right  to  know  them." 

"What  right?" 

"  The  right  of  every  man  to  face  his  accuser  when  on 
trial  for  his  life." 

"  Bah !  men  don't  die  nowadays  for  love,  or  women 
either/'  the  General  growled. 

"  Besides,"  continued  Gaston,  "  you  are  under  the  deep- 
est obligations  to  tell  me  fairly  your  reasons." 

"Obligations?" 

"  The  obligations  of  the  commonest  justice  between 
man  and  man.  You  invited  me  to  your  home.  I  was 
your  welcome  guest.  You  encouraged  my  suit  for  your 
daughter's  hand." 

"  How  dare  you  say  such  a  thing,  sir !  " 

"  Because  she  told  me  you  did.  I  was  led  to  believe 
that  you  not  only  looked  with  favour  on  my  suit,  but 
that  you  were  pleased  with  it.  I  asked  for  your  daughter. 
You  insulted  my  manhood  by  refusing  me  permission 
even  to  seek  an  interview,  and  know  the  reasons  for  your 
change  of  views.  Since  then  you  have  treated  me  with 
plain  brutality.  Now  something  caused  this  change." 

"  Certainly  something  caused  it,  something  of  tremen- 
dous importance,"  said  the  General. 

"  I  am  entitled  to  know  what  it  is." 

"  Simply  this.  I  received  information  concerning  you, 
your  habits,  your  associates,  your  character,  and  your 
family,  that  caused  me  to  change  my  mind." 

"  Did  you  inquire  as  to  their  truth  ?  " 

"  It  was  unnecessary.  I  love  my  daughter  beyond  all 
other  treasures  I  possess.  With  her  future  I  will  take 
no  risks." 

"  I  have  the  right  to  know  the  charges,  General,"  in- 
sisted Gaston.  "  I  demand  it." 


Face  to  Face  with  Fate  337 

"  Well,  sir,  if  you  demand  it,  you  will  get  it.  I  learned 
that  you  are  a  man  of  the  most  dissolute  habits  and  char- 
acter, that  you  are  a  hard  drinker,  a  gambler,  a  rake  and 
a  spendthrift,  and  that  your  family's  history  is  a  deplor- 
able one." 

"  My  family  history  a  deplorable  one ! "  cried  Gaston, 
springing  to  his  feet,  with  trembling  clinched  fists  and 
scarlet  face  on  which  the  blue  veins  suddenly  stood  out. 

"  I  begged  you  to  spare  me  and  yourself  the  pain  of 
this,"  replied  the  General  in  a  softer  voice. 

"  No,  I  do  not  ask  to  be  spared.  Give  me  the  particu- 
lars. What  is  the  stain  on  my  family  name?  " 

"  Not  a  moral  one,  but  in  some  respects  more  hopeless, 
a  physical  one.  I  have  positive  information  that  your 
people  on  one  side  are  what  is  known  in  the  South  as 
poor  white  trash — " 

Gaston  smiled.  "  I  thank  you,  General,  for  your  frank- 
ness. The  only  wrong  of  which  I  complain,  is  your  with- 
holding the  name  of  the  liar." 

"  There  is  no  use  of  a  fight  over  such  things.  I  do  not 
wish  my  daughter's  name  to  be  smirched  with  it." 

"  Her  name  is  as  dear  to  me  as  it  can  possibly  be  to 
you.  Never  fear.  You  are  her  father,  I  honour  you  as 
such.  I  thank  you  for  the  information.  I  scorn  to  stoop 
to  answer.  The  humour  of  it  forbids  an  answer  if 
I  could  stoop  to  make  one.  Now,  General,  I  make  you 
this  proposition.  I  am  not  in  a  hurry.  I  will  patiently 
wait  any  time  you  see  fit  to  set  for  any  developments  in 
my  life  and  character  about  which  you  have  doubts.  All 
I  ask  is  the  privilege  of  writing  to  the  woman  I  love.  Is 
not  this  reasonable  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  declared  the  General,  "  I  will  not  have  it. 
You  are  not  in  a  position  to  make  me  a  proposition  of 
any  sort.  I  have  settled  this  affair.  It  is  not  open  for 
discussion/* 


3  $8  The  Leopard 's  Spots 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  I  have  no  standing  whatever  it 
the  case  ?  "  asked  Gaston  with  a  smile,  rubbing  his  hand 
over  his  smooth  shaved  lips  and  chin. 

"  Exactly.  I've  settled  it.  There's  nothing  more  to 
be  said." 

"  I'll  never  give  her  up.  She  is  the  one  woman  God 
made  for  me,  and  you  will  have  to  put  me  under  the 
ground  before  you  have  settled  my  end  of  it,"  said  Gas- 
ton  still  smiling. 

The  old  man's  face  clouded  for  a  moment,  he  wrinkled 
his  brow,  drew  his  bushy  eyebrows  closer  and  then  turned 
toward  Gaston  in  a  persuasive  way. 

"  Look  here,  Gaston,  don't  be  a  fool.  It's  amusing  to 
me  to  hear  a  youngster  talk  such  drivel.  Love  is  not  a 
fatal  disease  for  a  man,  or  a  woman.  You  will  find  that 
out  later  if  you  don't  know  it  now.  I  loved  a  half  dozen 
girls,  and  when  I  got  ready  to  marry,  I  asked  the  one 
handiest,  and  that  seemed  most  suited  to  my  temper.  We 
married  and  have  lived  as  happily  as  the  romancers.  The 
world  is  full  of  pretty  girls.  Go  on  about  your  business, 
and  quit  bothering  me  and  mine." 

"  There's  only  one  girl  for  me,  General !  " 

"  That's  proof  positive  to  my  mind  that  you  are  a  little 
cracked ! "  he  answered  with  a  smile. 

Gaston  laughed  and  shook  his  head.  "  I'll  never  give 
her  up  in  this  world,  or  the  next,"  he  doggedly  added. 

Again  the  General  frowned.  "  Look  here,  young  man, 
did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  your  pursuit  might  be  held 
the  work  of  a  low  adventurer?  My  daughter  is  an  heir- 
ess. You  haven't  a  dollar.  Don't  you  know  that  I  will 
disinherit  her  if  she  marries  without  my  consent  ?  " 

"  You  can't  frighten  me  on  that  tack,"  answered 
Gaston  firmly.  "  No  dollar  mark  has  yet  been  placed 
on  the  doors  of  Southern  society.  Manhood,  character 
and  achievement  are  the  keys  that  unlock  it.  You  know 


Face  to  Face  with  Fate  359 

that,  and  I  i  :now  it.  I  was  poorer  and  more  obscure  the 
day  you  first  invited  me  here  than  to-day.  And  yet  you 
gave  me  as  hearty  a  welcome  as  her  richest  suitor.  All 
I  a'sk  is  time  to  prove  to  you  in  my  life  my  manhood  and 
worth, — one  year,  two  years,  five  years,  ten  years,  any 
time  you  see  fit  to  name/'  * 

"  "No,  sir,"  firmly  snapped  the  General,  "  not  a  day.  I 
don't  like  long  engagements,,  Yours  is  ended,  once  and 
for  all  time.  I  have  settled  that" 

"  Can  even  a  father  decide  the  destiny  of  two  immortal 
souls  off  hand  like  that  ?  " 

"  Now,  you  are  assuming  too  much.  I  am  not  speak 
ing  for  myself  alone.  I  have  laid  all  the  facts  carefully 
before  Sallie,  and  she  has  agreed  to  the  wisdom  of  my 
decision,  and  asked  me  to  represent  her  in  what  I  say 
this  evening." 

Gaston  turned  pale,  his  lips  quivered,  and  turning  to 
the  General  suddenly,  he  said, 

"  That  is  the  only  important  fact  you  have  laid  before 
me.  Just  let  her  come  here,  stand  by  your  side  and 
say  that  with  her  own  lips,  and  I  will  never  cross  your 
path  in  life  again." 

The  General  hung  his  head  and  stammered,  "  No,  it  is 
not  necessary.  It  will  embarrass  and  humiliate  her.  I 
will  not  permit  it." 

"  Then  I  deny  your  credentials !  "  exclaimed  Gaston. 

The  General  seemed  embarrassed  by  the  failure  of  this 
fatherly  subterfuge,  and  Gaston  could  not  help  smiling 
at  the  revelation  of  his  weakness.  He  decided  to  press 
his  advantage  and  try  to  see  her  if  only  for  a  mo- 
ment 

"  General,"  protested  Gaston  persuasively,  "  I  appeal  to 
your  sense  of  courtesy,  even  to  an  enemy.  After  all  that 
has  passed  between  us  in  this  house,  is  it  fair  or  courteous 
to  show  me  that  door  without  one  word  of  farewell  to 


360  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  woman  to  whom  I  have  given  my  life  ?    Or  is  it  wise 
from  your  point  of  view  ?  " 

Again  the  General  hesitated.  He  was  a  big-hearted 
man  of  generous  impulses,  and  he  felt  worsted  in  this  in- 
terview somehow,  but  it  was  hard  to  deny  such  a  request. 
He  fumbkd  at  his  watch  chain,  arose,  and  said, 

"  I  will  see  if  she  desires  it." 

Gaston's  heart  bounded  with  joy!  If  she  desired  it  I 
He  could  feel  her  soul  enveloping  him  with  its  love  as 
he  sat  there  conscious  that  she  was  somewhere  in  that 
house  praying  for  him  1 

He  fairly  choked  with  the  pain  and  the  joy  of  the  cer- 
tainty that  in  a  moment  he  would  be  near  her,  touch  her 
hand,  see  her  glorious  beauty  and  his  ears  drink  the  music 
of  her  voicea 

"  Just  step  this  way,"  said  the  General,  re-appearing  at 
the  door, 

Gaston  walked  into  the  hall  and  met  Sallie  as  she 
emerged  from  the  library  door  opposite.  He  tried  to  say 
something,  but  his  throat  was  dry  and  his  tongue  para- 
lysed with  the  wonder  of  her  presence !  Besides,  the  Gen- 
eral stood  grimly  by  like  a  guard  over  a  life  prisoner. 

He  looked  searchingly  into  her  eyes  as  he  held  her 
hand  for  a  moment  and  felt  its  warm  impulsive  pressure. 
Oh!  the  eyes  of  the  woman  we  love!  What  are  words 
to  their  language  of  melting  tenderness,  of  faith  and 
longing.  Gaston  felt  like  shouting  in  the  General's  face 
his  triumph.  She  tried  to  speak,  but  only  pressed  his 
hand  again.  It  was  enough. 

He  bowed  to  the  General,  and  left  without  a  word. 


CHAPTER  III 
A  WHITE  LIB 

THAT  night  as  he  walked  back  through  the  streets 
he  was  thrilled  with  a  sense  of  strength  and  of 
triumph.  He  knew  his  ground  now.  There  was 
to  be  war  between  him  and  the  General  to  the  bitter  end. 
He  had  never  asked  her  once  to  oppose  her  father's  or 
mother's  command.  Now  he  would  see  who  was  master 
in  a  test  of  strength.  And  he  was  eager  for  the  struggle,, 
His  mind  was  alert,  and  every  nerve  and  muscle  tense 
with  energy. 

"  Heavens,  how  hungry  I  am  I "  he  exclaimed  when  he 
reached  the  brilliantly  lighted  business  portion  of  the  city» 

He  went  into  a  restaurant,  ordered  a  steak,  and  enjoyed 
a  good  meal.  He  recalled  then  that  he  had  not  eaten 
for  twenty-four  hours.  The  steak  was  good,  and  the 
faces  of  the  people  seemed  to  him  lit  with  gladness. 
He  was  singing  a  battle  song  in  his  soul,  and  the  eyes  of 
the  woman  he  loved  looked  at  him  with  yearning  tender- 
ness. 

"  Now,  Bob,  I  count  on  you,"  he  cried  to  his  friend 
next  morning.  "  I  am  going  to  have  a  merry  Christmas 
and  you  are  to  aid  in  the  skirmishing." 

"  I'm  with  you  to  the  finish ! "  Bob  responded  with 
enthusiasm. 

"  We  must  make  a  feint  this  morning  to  deceive  the 
enemy  while  I  turn  his  flank.  I  go  home  on  the  nine 
o'clock  train.  You  understand  ?  " 


362  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Yes,  over  the  left.  It's  dead  easy  too.  There's  to  be 
a  big  Christmas  party  to-night  at  the  Alexanders'.  She's 
invited.  I'll  see  that  she  goes  to  it  if  I  have  to  drag 
her/' 

"  Good.  Don't  tell  her  I'm  in  town.  I  want  to  sur- 
prise her0" 

The  General  had  a  man  at  the  morning  train  who  re- 
ported Gaston's  departure.  He  was  surprised  at  Sallie's 
good  spirits  but  attributed  it  to  the  magnificent  present 
he  had  given  her  that  morning  of  a  diamond  ring  and 
an  exquisite  pearl  necklace. 

He  bustled  her  off  to  the  party  that  night  and  con- 
gratulated himself  on  the  certainty  of  his  triumph  over 
an  aspiring  youngster  who  dared  to  set  his  will  against 
his  own. 

When  the  festivities  had  begun,  and  the  children  were 
busy  with  their  fireworks,  Sallie  strolled  along  the  wind- 
ing walks  of  the  big  lawn»  She  was  chatting  with  Bob 
St.  Clare  about  a  young  man  they  both  knew,  and 
when  they  reached  the  corner  furthest  from  the  house, 
under  the  shadows  of  a  great  magnolia  with  low  over- 
hanging boughs  she  saw  the  figure  of  a  man. 

She  smiled  into  Bob's  face,  pressed  his  hand  and  said, 

"  Now,  Bob  you've  done  all  a  good  friend  could  do. 
Go  back.  I  don't  need  you." 

And  Bob  answered  with  a  smile  and  left  her.  In  a 
moment  Gaston  was  by  her  side  with  both  her  hands  in 
his  kissing  them  tenderly, 

"  Didn't  I  surprise  you,  dear  ?  "  he  softly  asked. 

"  No.  Bob  denied  you  were  here,  but  I  knew  he  was 
a  story.  I  was  sure  you  would  never  leave  with- 
out seeing  me.  You  couldn't,  could  you  ?  " 

"  Not  after  what  I  saw  in  your  eyes  last  night  f "  he 
whispered. 

"  It  seems  a  century  since  I've  heard  your  voice/'  she 


A  White  Lie  363 

said  wistfully.  "  God  alone  knows  what  I  have  suffered, 
and  I  am  growing  weary  of  it." 

"  Do  you  think  I  have  been  treated  fairly?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  I  do  not" 

"  Then  you  will  write  to  me?  " 

"  Yes.  I  will  not  starve  my  heart  any  longer."  And 
she  pressed  his  hand. 

"  You  have  made  the  world  glorious  again !  When  will 
you  marry  me,  Sallie  ?  "  he  bent  his  face  close  to  her, 
and  for  an  answer  she  tenderly  kissed  him. 

They  stood  in  silence  a  moment  with  clasped  hands, 
and  then  she  said  slowly,  "  You  didn't  want  your  free- 
dom did  you,  dear  ?  That's  the  third  kiss,  isn't  it  ?  I  won- 
der if  kissing  will  be  always  as  sweet!  But  you  asked 
me  when  we  can  marry  ?  I  can't  tell  now.  I  can  do  noth- 
ing to  shock  Mama.  She  seems  to  draw  closer  and  closer 
to  me  every  day.  And  now  that  I  have  determined  no 
power  shall  separate  us,  it  seems  more  and  more  neces- 
sary that  I  shall  win  Papa's  consent.  He  loves  me  dearly. 
I  feel  that  I  must  have  his  blessing  on  our  lives.  Give  me 
time.  I  hope  to  win  him.'' 

"And  you  will  never  let  another  week  pass  without 
writing  to  me  ?  " 

"  Never.  Send  my  letters  to  Bob.  He  loves  you  better 
than  he  ever  thought  he  loved  me.  He  will  give  them 
to  me  on  Sundays  at  church,  and  when  he  calls," 

For  two  hours  the  kindly  mantle  of  the  magnolia 
sheltered  them  while  they  told  the  old  sweet  story  over 
and  over  again.  And  somehow  that  night  it  seemed  to 
them  sweeter  each  time  it  was  told. 


CHAPTER  IV! 
THE  UNSPOKEN  TERROR 

WHEN  Gaston  reached  Hambright  the  following 
day,  and  whispered  to  his  mother  the  good 
news,  he  hastened  to  tell  his  friend  Tom  Camp. 
The  young  man's  heart  warmed  toward  the  white-haired 
old  soldier  in  this  hour  of  his  victory.     With  sparkling 
eyes,  he  told  Tom  of  his  stormy  scene  with  the  General, 
of  its  curious  ending,  and  the  hours  he  spent  in  heaven 
beneath  the  limbs  of  an  old  magnolia. 

Tom  listened  with  rapture.  "  Ah,  didn't  I  tell  you,  if 
you  hung  on  you'd  get  her  by-and-by?  So  you  bearded 
the  General  in  his  den  did  you?  I'll  bet  his  eyes  blazed 
when  he  seed  you !  He's  got  an  awful  temper  when  you 
rile  him.  You  ought  to  a  seed  him  one  day  when  our 
brigade  was  ordered  into  a  charge  where  three  concealed 
batteries  was  cross  firin'  and  men  was  fallin'  like  wheat 
under  the  knife.  Geeminy  but  didn't  he  cuss!  He 
wouldn't  take  the  order  fust  from  the  orderly,  and  sent 
to  know  if  the  Major-General  meant  it.  I  tell  you  us 
fellers  that  was  layin'  there  in  the  grass  listenin'  to  them 
bullets  singin'  thought  he  was  the  finest  cusser  that  ever 
ripped  an  oath. 

"  He  reared  and  he  charged,  and  he  cussed,  and  he 
damned  that  man  for  tryin'  to  butcher  his  men,  and  he 
never  moved  till  the  third  order  came.  That  was  the 
night  ten  thousand  wounded  men  lay  on  the  field,  and 
me  in  the  middle  of  'em  with  a  Minie  ball  in  my  shoul- 
364 


TOM        CAMP. 


The  .Unspoken  Terror  365 

der.  The  Yankees  and  our  men  was  all  mixed  up  to- 
gether, and  just  after  dark  the  full  moon  came  up  tlirough 
the  trees  and  you  could  see  as  plain  as  day.  I  begun  to 
sing  the  old  hymn,  "  There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight," 
and  you  ought  to  have  heard  them  ten  thousand  wounded 
men  sing! 

"  While  we  was  singing  the  General  came  through 
lookin'  up  his  men.  He  seed  me  and  said, 

"Is  that  you,  Tom  Camp?" 

"  I  looked  up  at  him,  and  he  was  crying  like  a  child,  and 
he  went  on  from  man  to  man  cryin'  and  cussin  the  fool 
that  sent  us  into  that  hell-hole.  The  General's  a  rough 
man,  if  you  rub  his  fur  the  wrong  way,  but  his  heart's 
all  right.  He's  all  gold  I  tell  you !  " 

"  Well,  I'm  in  for  a  tussle  with  him,  Tom." 

"  Shucks,  man,  you  can  beat  him  with  one  hand  tied 
behind  you  if  you've  got  his  gal's  heart.  She's  got  his 
fire,  and  a  gal  as  purty  as  she  is  can  just  about  do  what' 
she  pleases  in  this  world." 

"  I  hope  she  can  bring  him  around.  I  like  the  General. 
I'd  much  rather  not  fight  him." 

"  Where's  Flora  ? "  cried  Tom  looking  around  in 
alarm. 

"  I  saw  her  going  toward  the  spring  in  the  edge  of 
the  woods  there  a  minute  ago,"  replied  Gaston. 

Tom  sprang  up  and  began  to  hop  and  jump  down  the 
path  toward  the  spring  with  incredible  rapidity. 

Flora  was  playing  in  the  branch  below  the  spring  and 
Tom  saw  the  form  of  a  negro  man  passing  over  the  op- 
posite hill  going  along  the  spring  path  that  led  in  that 
direction. 

"  Was  you  talkin'  with  that  nigger,  Flora  ? "  asked 
Tom  holding  his  hand  on  his  side  and  trying  to  recover 
his  breath. 

"  Yes,  I  said  howdy,  when  he  stopped  to  get  a  drink 


366  The  Leopard's  Spots 

of  water,  and  he  give  me  a  whistle,"  she  replied  with 
a  pout  of  her  pretty  lips  and  a  frown. 

Tom  seized  her  by  the  arm  and  shook  her.  "  Didn't 
I  tell  you  to  run  every  time  you  seed  a  nigger  unless  I 
was  with  you !  " 

"  Yes,  but  he  wasn't  hurtin'  me  and  you  are ! "  she 
cried  bursting  into  tears. 

"  I've  a  notion  to  whip  you  good  for  this !  "  Tom 
stormed. 

"Don't  Tom,  she  won't  do  it  any  more,  will  you 
Flora  ? "  pleaded  Gaston  taking  her  in  his  arms  and 
starting  to  the  house  with  her.  When  they  reached  the 
house,  Tom  was  still  pale  and  trembling  with  excite- 
ment. 

"Lord,  there's  so  many  triflin'  niggers  loafin'  round 
the  county  now  stealing  and  doin'  all  sorts  of  devilment, 
I'm  scared  to  death  about  that  child.  She  don't  seem 
any  more  afraid  of  'em  than  she  is  of  a  cat." 

"  I  don't  believe  anybody  would  hurt  Flora,  Tom, — 
she's  such  a  little  angel,"  said  Gaston  kissing  the  tears 
from  the  child's  face. 

"  She  is  cute — ain't  she  ?  "  said  Tom  with  pride.  "  I've 
wished  many  a  time  lately  I'd  gone  out  West  with  them 
Yankee  fellers  that  took  such  a  likin'  to  me  in  the  war. 
They  told  me  that  a  poor  white  man  had  a  chance  out 
there,  and  that  there  wern't  a  nigger  in  twenty  miles  of 
their  home.  But  then  I  lost  my  leg,  how  could  I 
go?" 

He  sat  dreaming  with  open  eyes  for  a  moment  and  con- 
tinued, looking  tenderly  at  Flora,  "  But,  baby,  don't  you 
dare  go  nigh  er  nigger,  or  let  one  get  nigh  you  no  more 
'n  you  would  a  rattlesnake !  " 

"  I  won't  Pappy !  "  she  cried  with  an  incredulous  smile 
at  his  warning  of  danger  that  made  Tom's  heart  sick. 
She  was  all  joy  and  laughter,  full  of  health  and  bubbling 


The  Unspoken  Terror  367 

life.  She  believed  with  a  child's  simple  faith  that  all 
nature  was  as  innocent  as  her  own  heart. 

Tom  smoothed  her  curls  and  kissed  her  at  last,  and  she 
slipped  her  arm  around  his  neck  and  squeezed  it  tight. 

"  Ain't  she  purty  and  sweet  now  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Tom,  you'll  spoil  her  yet,"  warned  Gaston  as  he  smiled 
and  took  his  leave,  throwing  a  kiss  to  Flora  as  he  passed 
through  the  little  yard  gate.  Tom  had  built  a  fence  close 
around  his  house  when  Flora  was  a  baby  to  shut  her  in 
while  he  was  at  work. 

Two  days  later  about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  as 
Gaston  sat  in  his  office  writing  a  letter  to  his  sweetheart, 
his  face  aglow  with  love  and  the  certainty  that  she  was 
his,  as  he  read  and  re-read  her  last  glowing  words  he  was 
startled  by  the  sudden  clang  of  the  court  house  bell.  At 
first  he  did  not  move,  only  looking  up  from  his  paper. 
Sometimes  mischievous  boys  rang  the  bell  and  ran  down 
the  steps  before  any  one  could  catch  them.  But  the  bell 
continued  its  swift  stroke  seeming  to  grow  louder  and 
wilder  every  moment.  He  saw  a  man  rush  across  the 
square,  and  then  the  bell  of  the  Methodist,  and  then  of 
the  Baptist  churches  joined  their  clamour  to  the  alarm. 

He  snapped  the  lid  of  his  desk,  snatched  his  hat  and 
ran  down  the  steps. 

As  he  reached  the  street,  he  heard  the  long  piercing 
cry  of  a  woman's  voice,  high,  strenuous,  quivering! 

"  A  lost  child !    A  lost  'child !  " 

What  a  cry!  He  was  never  so  thrilled  and  awed  by 
a  human  voice.  In  it  was  trembling  all  the  anguish  of 
every  mother's  broken  heart  transmitted  through  the  cen- 
turies ! 

At  the  court  house  door  an  excited  group  had  gathered. 
A  man  was  standing  on  the  steps  gesticulating  wildly  and 
telling  the  crowd  all  he  knew  about  it.  Over  the  din  he 
caught  the  name, 


368  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"Tom  Camp's  Flora!" 

He  breathed  hard,  bit  his  lips,  and  prayed  instinctively. 

"  Lord  have  mercy  on  the  poor  old  man !  It  will  kill 
him ! "  A  great  fear  brooded  over  the  hearts  of  the 
crowd,  and  soon  the  tumult  was  hushed  into  an  awed 
silence. 

In  Gaston's  heart  that  fear  became  a  horrible  certainty 
from  the  first.  Within  a  half  hour  a  thousand  white 
people  were  in  the  crowd.  Gaston  stood  among  them, 
cool  and  masterful,  organising  them  in  searching  parties, 
and  giving  to  each  group  the  signals  to  be  used. 

In  a  moment  the  white  race  had  fused  into  a  homogene- 
ous mass  of  love,  sympathy,  hate,  and  revenge.  The  rich 
and  the  poor,  the  learned  and  the  ignorant,  the  banker 
and  the  blacksmith,  the  great  and  the  small,  they  were  all 
one  now.  The  sorrow  of  that  old  one-legged  soldier  was 
the  sorrow  of  all,  every  heart  beat  with  his,  and  his  life 
was  their  life,  and  his  child  their  child. 

But  at  the  end  of  an  hour  there  was  not  a  negro  among 
them!  By  some  subtle  instinct  they  had  recognised  the 
secret  feelings  and  fears  of  the  crowd  and  had  dis- 
appeared. Had  they  been  beasts  of  the  field  the  gulf 
between  them  would  not  have  been  deeper. 

When  Gaston  reached  Tom's  house  the  crowd  was  di- 
vided into  the  groups  agreed  upon  and  a  signal  gun  given 
to  each.  If  the  child  was  not  dead  when  found  two 
should  be  fired — if  dead,  but  one. 

He  sought  Tom  to  be  sure  there  was  no  mistake  and 
that  the  child  had  not  fallen  asleep  about  the  house.  He 
found  the  old  man  shut  up  in  his  room  kneeling  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor  praying. 

When  Gaston  laid  his  hand  gently  on  his  shoulder  his 
lips  ceased  to  move,  and  he  looked  at  him  in  a  dazed  sort 
of  way  at  first  without  speakingo 

"Oh I—it's  you,  Charlie!"  he  sighed. 


The  Unspoken  Terror  369 

"  Yes,  Tom,  tell  me  quick.  Are  you  sure  she  is  no- 
where in  the  house  ?  " 

"Sure!— Sure?"  he  cried  in  a  helpless  stare.  "Yes, 
yes,  I  found  her  bonnet  at  the  spring.  I  looked  every- 
where for  an  hour  before  I  called  the  neighbours !  " 

"  Then  I'm  off  with  the  searchers.  The  signal  is  two 
guns  if  they  find  her  alive.  One  gun  if  she  is  dead.  You 
will  understand." 

"  Yes,  Charlie,"  answered  the  old  soldier  in  a  faraway 
tone  of  voice,  "  and  don't  forget  to  help  me  pray  while 
you  look  for  her." 

"  I've  tried  already,  Tom,"  he  answered  as  he  pressed 
his  hand  and  left  the  house.  All  night  long  the  search 
continued,  and  no  signal  gun  was  heard.  Torches  and 
lanterns  gleamed  from  every  field  and  wood,  byway  and 
hedge  for  miles  in  every  direction. 

Through  every  hour  of  this  awful  night  Tom  Camp 
was  in  his  room  praying — his  face  now  streaming  with 
tears,  now  dry  and  white  with  the  unspoken  terror  that 
could  stop  the  beat  of  his  heart.  His  white  hair  and 
snow-white  beard  were  dishevelled,  as  he  unconsciously 
tore  them  with  his  trembling  hands.  Now  he  was  crying 
in  an  agony  of  intensity, 

"  As  thy  servant  of  old  wrestled  with  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  through  the  night,  so,  oh  God,  will  I  lie  at  Thy  feet 
and  wrestle  and  pray !  I  will  not  let  Thee  go  until  Thou 
bless  me !  Though  I  perish,  let  her  live !  I  have  lost  all 
and  praised  Thee  still.  Lord,  Thou  canst  not  leave  me 
desolate!" 

From  the  pain  of  his  wound  and  the  exhaustion  of  soul 
and  body  he  fainted  once  with  his  lips  still  moving  in 
prayer.  For  more  than  an  hour  he  lay  as  one  dead. 
When  he  revived,  he  looked  at  his  clock  and  it  was  but 
an  hour  till  dawn. 

Again  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and  again  the  broken  ac- 


370  The  Leopard's  Spots 

cents  of  his  husky  voice  could  be  heard  wrestling  with 
God.  Now  he  would  beg  and  plead  like  a  child,  and 
then  he  would  rise  in  the  unconscious  dignity  of  an 
immortal  soul  in  combat  with  the  powers  of  the  infinite 
and  his  language  was  in  the  sublime  speech  of  the  old 
Hebrew  seers ! 

Just  before  the  sun  rose  the  signal  gun  pealed  its  mes- 
sage of  life,  ONE !  TWO !  in  rapid  succession. 

Tom  sprang  to  his  feet  with  blazing  eyes.  One!  Two! 
echoed  the  guns  from  another  hill,  and  fainter  grew  its 
repeated  call  from  group  to  group  of  the  searchers. 

"  There !  Glory  to  God !  "  He  screamed  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  the  last  note  of  his  triumphant  shout  break- 
ing into  sobs.  "  God  be  praised !  I  knew  they  would 
find  her — she's  not  dead,  she's  alive!  alive!  oh!  my  soul, 
lift  up  thy  head !  " 

The  tramp  of  swift  feet  was  heard  at  the  door  and 
Gaston  told  him  with  husky  stammering  voice, 

"  She's  alive  •  Tom,  but  unconscious.  I'll  have  her 
brought  to  the  house.  She  was  found  just  where  your 
spring  branch  runs  into  the  Flat  Rock,  not  five  hundred 
yards  from  here  in  those  woods.  Stay  where  you  are. 
We  will  bring  her  in  a  minute." 

Gaston  bounded  back  to  the  scene. 

Tom  paid  no  attention  to  his  orders  to  stay  at  home, 
but  sprang  after  him  jumping  and  falling  and  scrambling 
up  again  as  he  followed.  Before  they  knew  it  he  was 
upon  the  excited  tearful  group  that  stood  in  a  circle 
around  the  child's  body. 

Gaston,  who  was  standing  on  the  opposite  side  from 
Tom's  approach,  saw  him  and  shouted, 

"  My  God,  men,  stop  him !    Don't  let  him  see  her  yet !  " 

But  Tom  was  too  quick  for  them.  He  brushed  aside 
the  boy  who  caught  at  him,  as  though  a  feather,  crying, 

44 Stand  back!" 


The  Unspoken  Terror  371 

The  circle  of  men  fell  away  from  the  body  and  in  a 
moment  Tom  stood  over  it  transfixed  with  horror. 

Flora  lay  on  the  ground  with  her  clothes  torn  to  shreds 
and  stained  with  blood.  Her  beautiful  yellow  curls  were 
matted  across  her  forehead  in  a  dark  red  lump  beside  a 
wound  where  her  skull  had  been  crushed.  The  stone  lay 
at  her  side,  the  crimson  mark  of  her  life  showing  on  its 
jagged  edges. 

With  that  stone  the  brute  had  tried  to  strike  the  death 
blow.  She  was  lying  on  the  edge  of  the  hill  with  her 
head  up  the  incline.  It  was  too  plain,  the  terrible  crime 
that  had  been  committed. 

The  poor  father  sank  beside  her  body  with  an  inarticu- 
late groan  as  though  some  one  had  crushed  his  head  with 
an  axe.  He  seemed  dazed  for  a  moment,  and  looking 
around  he  shouted  hoarsely, 

"The  doctor  boys!  The  doctor  quick!  For  God's 
sake,  quick!  She's  not  dead  yet — we  may  save  her — 
help — help !  "  he  sank  again  to  the  ground  limp  and  faint 
from  pain  and  was  soon  insensible. 

Gaston  gathered  the  child  tenderly  in  his  arms  and 
carried  her  to  the  house.  The  men  hastily  made  a 
stretcher  and  carried  Tom  behind  him. 


CHAPTER  V 
A  THOUSAND-LEGGED  BEAST 

WHILE  Gaston  and  the  men  were  carrying  Flora 
and  Tom  to  the    house,    another    searching 
party  was  formed.     There  were  no  women 
and  children  among  them,  only  grim-visaged  silent  men, 
and  a  pair  of  little  mild-eyed  sharp-nosed  blood-hounds. 
All  the  morning  men  were  coming  in  from  the  country 
and  joining  this  silent  army  of  searchers. 

Doctor  Graham  came,  looked  long  and  gravely  at  Flora 
and  turned  a  sad  face  toward  Tom. 

The  olc  soldier  grasped  his  arm  before  he  spoke. 

"Now,  doctor  wait — don't  say  a  word  yet.  I  don't 
want  to  know  the  truth,  if  it's  the  worst.  Don't  kill  me 
in  a  minute.  Let  me  live  as  long  as  there's  breath  in  her 
body — after  that!  well,  that's  the  end — there's  nothin' 
after  that !  " 

The  doctor  started  to  speak. 

"Wait,"  pleaded  Tom,  "let  me  tell  you  something. 
I've  been  praying  all  night .  I've  seen  God  face  to  face. 
She  can't  die.  He  told  me  so — " 

He  paused  and  his  grip  on  the  doctor's  arm  relaxed  as 
though  he  were  about  to  faint,  but  he  rallied. 

The  kindly  old  doctor  said  gently,  "  Sit  down 
Tom." 

He  tried  to  lead  Tom  away  from  the  bed,  but  he  held 
on  like  a  bull  dog. 

The  child  breathed  heavily  and  moaned. 


A  Thousand-Legged  Beast  373 

Tom's  face  brightened.  "  She's  comin'  to,  doctor, — 
thank  God!" 

The  doctor  paid  no  more  attention  to  him  and  went  on 
with  his  work  as  best  he  could. 

Tom  laid  his  tear-stained  face  close  to  hers,  and  mur- 
mured soothingly  to  her  as  he  used  to  when  she  was  a 
wee  baby  in  his  arms, 

"  There,  there,  honey,  it  will  be  all  right  now !  The 
doctor's  here,  and  he'll  do  all  he  can !  And  what  he  can't 
do,  God  will.  The  doctor'll  save  you.  God  will  save  you ! 
He  loves  you.  He  loves  me.  I  prayed  all  night.  He 
heard  me.  I  saw  the  shinin'  glory  of  His  facet  He's 
only  tryin'  His  poor  old  servant." 

The  broken  artery  was  found  and  tied  and  the  bleed- 
ing stopped.  When  the  wound  in  her  head  was  dressed 
the  doctor  turned  to  Tom, 

"  That  wound  is  bad,  but  not  necessarily  fatal." 

"Praise  God!" 

"  Keep  the  house  quiet  and  don't  let  her  see  a  strange 
face  when  she  regains  consciousness,"  was  his  parting 
injunction. 

The  next  morning  her  breathing  was  regular,  and  pulse 
stronger,  but  feverish;  and  about  seven  o'clock  she  came 
out  of  her  comatose  state  and  regained  consciousness. 
She  spoke  but  once,  and  apparently  at  the  sound  of  her 
own  voice  immediately  went  into  a  convulsion,  clinching 
her  little  fists,  screaming  and  calling  to  her  father  for 
help! 

When  Tom  first  heard  that  awful  cry  and  saw  her  terri- 
fied eyes  and  drawn  face,  he  tried  to  cover  his  own  eyes 
and  stop  his  ears.  Then  he  gathered  the  little  convulsed 
body  into  his  arms  and  crooned  into  her  ears, 

"  There,  Pappy's  baby,  don't  cry !  Pappy's  got  you 
now .  Nothin'  can  hurt  you .  There,  there,  nothin'  shall 
come  nigh  you !  " 


374  The  Leopard's  Spots 

He  covered  her  face  with  tears  and  kisses  while  he 
whispered  and  soothed  her  to  sleep.  When  the  noon  train 
came  up  from  Independence,  General  Worth  arrived. 
Tom  had  asked  Gaston  to  telegraph  for  him  in  his  name. 

Tom  eagerly  grasped  his  hand.  "  General  I  knowed 
you'd  come — you're  a  man  to  tie  to.  I  never  knowed 
you  to  fail  me  in  your  life.  You're  one  of  the  smartest 
men  in  the  world  too.  You  never  got  us  boys  in  a  hole 
so  deep  you  didn't  pull  us  out" — 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  "  interrupted  the  General. 

"  Ah,  now's  the  worst  of  all,  General.  I'm  in  water 
too  deep  for  me.  My  baby,  the  last  one  left  on  earth,  the 
apple  of  my  eye,  all  that  holds  my  old  achin'  body  to  this 
world — she's — about — to — die !  I  can't  let  her  *  General, 
you  must  save  her  for  me .  I  want  more  doctors.  They 
say  there's  a  great  doctor  at  Independence.  I  want  'em 
all.  Tell  'em  it's  a  poor  old  one-legged  soldier  who's  shot 
all  to  pieces  and  lost  his  wife  and  all  his  children — all 
but  this  one  baby.  And  I  can't  lose  her!  They'll  come 
if  you  ask  'em — "'  His  voice  broke. 

"  I'll  do  it,  Tom.  I'll  have  them  here  on  a  special  in 
three  hours  or  maybe  sooner,"  returned  the  General  press- 
ing his  hand  and  hurrying  to  the  telegraph  office. 

The  doctors  arrived  at  three  o'clock  and  held  a  consul- 
tation with  Doctor  Graham.  They  decided  that  the  loss 
of  blood  had  been  so  great  that  the  only  chance  to  save 
her  was  in  the  transfusion  of  blood. 

"I'll  give  her  the  blood,  Tom,"  said  Gaston  quietly 
removing  his  coat  and  baring  his  arm. 

The  old  soldier  looked  up  through  grateful  tears. 

"  Next  to  the  General,  you're  the  best  friend  God  ever 
give  me,  boy !  " 

The  General  turned  his  face  away  and  looked  out  of 
the  window.  The  doctors  immediately  performed  the 
operation,  transfusing  blood  from  Gaston  into  the  child. 


A  Thousand- Legged  Beast  375 

The  results  did  not  seem  to  promise  what  they  had  hoped. 
Her  fever  rose  steadily.  She  became  conscious  again  and 
immediately  went  into  the  most  fearful  convulsions, 
breaking  the  torn  artery  a  second  time. 

Just  as  the  sun  sank  behind  the  blue  mountains  peaks 
in  the  west,  her  heart  fluttered  and  she  was  dead. 

Tom  sat  by  the  bed  for  two  hours,  looking,  looking, 
looking  with  wide  staring  eyes  at  her  white  dead  face. 
There  was  not  the  trace  of  a  tear.  His  mouth  was  set 
in  a  hard  cold  way  and  he  never  moyed  or  spoke. 

The  Preacher  tried  to  comfort  Tom,  who  stared  at  him 
as  though  he  did  not  recognise  him  at  first,  and  then 
slowly  began, 

"  Go  away,  Preacher,  I  don't  want  to  see  or  talk  to  you 
now.  It's  all  a  swindle  and  a  lie.  There  is  no  God !  " 

"  Tom,  Tom !  "  groaned  the  Preacher. 

"  I  tell  you  I  mean  it,"  he  continued.  "  I  don't  want 
any  more  of  God  or  His  heaven.  I  don't  want  to  see 
God.  For  if  I  should  see  Him,  I'd  shake  my  fist  in  His 
face  and  ask  Him  where  His  almighty  power  was  when 
my  poor  little  baby  was  screamm'  for  help  while  that 
damned  black  beast  was  tearin'  her  to  pieces!  Many 
and  many  a  time  I've  praised  God  when  I  read  the  Bible 
there  where  it  said,  not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground 
without  His  knowledge,  and  the  very  hairs  of  our  head 
are  numbered.  Well,  where  was  He  when  my  little  bird 
was  flutterin'  her  broken  bleedin'  wings  in  the  claws  of 
that  stinkin'  baboon, — damn  him  to  everlastin'  hell ! — It's 
all  a  swindle  I  tell  you !  " 

The  Preacher  was  watching  him  now  with  silent  pity 
and  tenderness. 

"  What  a  lie  it  all  is !  "  Tom  repeated.  "  Scratch  my 
name  off  the  church  roll.  I  ain't  got  many  more  days 
here,  but  I  won't  lie.  I'm  not  a  hypocrite.  I'm  going  to 
meet  God  cursin'  Him  to  His  face !  " 


376  The  Leopard's  Spots 

The  Preacher  slipped  his  arm  around  the  old  soldiers 
neck,  and  smoothed  the  tangled  hair  back  from  his  fore- 
head as  he  said  brokenly, 

"  Tom,  I  love  you !  My  whole  soul  is  melted  in  sym- 
pathy and  pity  for  you !  " 

The  stricken  man  looked  up  into  the  face  of  his  friend, 
saw  his  tears  and  felt  the  warmth  of  his  love  flood  his 
heart,  and  at  last  he  burst  into  tears. 

"  Oh !  Preacher,  Preacher !  you're  a  good  friend  I  know, 
but  I'm  done,  I -can't  live  any  more!  Every  minute,  day 
and  night,  I'll  hear  them  awful  screams — her  a  callin' 
me  for  help !  I  can  see  her  lyin'  out  there  in  the  woods 
all  night  alone  moanin'  and  bleedin' !  " 

His  breast  heaved  and  he  paused  as  if  in  reverie.  And 
then  he  sprang  up,  his  face  livid  and  convulsed  with  vol- 
canic passions,  that  half  strangled  him  while  he  shrieked, 

"  Oh !  if  I  only  had  him  here  before  me  now,  and  God 
Almighty  would  give  me  strength  with  these  hands  to 
tear  his  breast  open  and  rip  his  heart  out! — 1 — could — 
eat— it— like— a— wolf !  " 


When  they  reached  the  cemetery  the  next  day  and  the 
body  was  about  to  be  lowered  into  the  grave,  Tom  sud- 
denly spied  old  Uncle  Reuben  Worth  leaning  on  his 
spade  by  the  edge  of  the  crowd.  Uncle  Reuben  was  the 
grave  digger  of  the  town  and  the  only  negro  present. 

"  Wait !  "  said  Tom  raising  his  hand.  "  Don't  put  her 
in  that  grave!  A  nigger  dug  it.  I  can't  stand  it."  He 
turned  to  a  group  of  old  soldier  comrades  standing  by 
and  said, 

"  Boys,  humour  an  old  broken  man  once  more.  You'll 
dig  another  grave  for  me,  won't  you  ?  It  won't  take  long. 
The  folks  can  go  home  that  don't  want  to  stay.  I  ain't 
got  no  home  to  go  to  now  but  this  graveyard." 


A  Thousand-Legged  Beast  377 

His  comrades  filled  up  the  grave  that  Uncle  Reuben 
had  dug,  and  opened  a  new  one  on  the  other  side  of  the 
graves  where  slept, his  other  loved  ones. 

Gaston  took  Tom  to  his  home  and  stayed  with  him 
several  hours  trying  to  help  him.  He  seemed  to  have 
settled  into  a  stupor  from  which  nothing  could  rouse 
him.  When  at  length  the  old  man  fell  asleep,  Gaston 
softly  closed  the  door  and  returned  to  his  office  with  a 
heavy  heart. 

As  he  neared  the  centre  of  the  town,  he  heard  a 
murmur  like  the  distant  moaning  of  the  wind  in  the 
hush  that  comes  before  a  storm.  It  grew  louder  and 
louder  and  became  articulate  with  occasional  words  that 
seemed  far  away  and  unreal.  What  could  it  be?  He  had 
never  heard  such  a  sound  before.  Now  it  became  clearer 
and  the  murmur  was  the  tread  of  a  thousand  feet  and 
the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs.  Not  a  cry,  or  a  shout,  or  a 
word.  Silence  and  hurrying  feet! 

Ah!  he  knew  now.  It  was  the  searchers  returning,  a 
grim  swaying  voiceless  mob  with  one  black  figure  amid 
them.  They  were  swarming  into  the  court  house  square 
under  the  big  oak  where  an  informal  trial  was  to  be 
held. 

He  rushed  forward  to  protest  against  a  lynching.  He 
could  just  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  negro's  head  swaying 
back  and  forth,  protesting  innocence  in  a  singing  mono- 
tone as  though  he  were  already  half  dead. 

He  pushed  his  way  roughly  through  the  excited  crowd, 
to  the  centre  where  Hose  Norman,  the  leader,  stood  with 
one  end  of  a  rope  in  his  hand  and  the  other  around  the 
negro's  neck. 

The  negro  turned  his  head  quickly  toward  the  move- 
ment made  by  the  crowd  as  Gaston  pressed  forward. 

It  was  Dick ! 

Dick  recognised  him  at  the  same  moment,  leaped  to- 


378  The  Leopard's  Spots 

ward  him  and  fell  at  his  feet  crying  and  pleading  as  he 
held  his  feet  and  legs. 

"  Save  me,  Charlie !  I  nebber  done  it !  I  nebber  done 
it !  For  God's  sake  help  me !  Keep  'em  off !  Dey  gwine 
burn  me  erlive !  " 

Gaston  turned  to  the  crowd.  "  Men,  there's  not  one 
among  you  that  loved  that  old  soldier  and  his  girl  as  I 
did.  But  you  must  not  do  this  crime.  If  this  negro  is 
guilty,  we  can  prove  it  in  that  court  house  there,  and 
he  will  pay  the  penalty  with  his  life.  Give  him  a  fair 
trial  "— 

"  That's  a  lawyer  talkin'  now !  "  said  a  man  in  the 
crowd.  "  We  know  that  tune.  The  lawyers  has  things 
their  own  way  in  a  court  house."  A  murmur  of  assent 
mingled  with  oaths  ran  through  the  crowd. 

"  Fair  trial ! "  sneered  Hose  Norman  snatching  Dick 
from  the  ground  by  the  rope.  "  Look  at  the  black  devil's 
clothes  splotched  all  over  with  her  blood.  We  found  him 
under  a  shelvin'  rock  where  he'd  got  by  wadin'  up  the 
branch  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  fool  the  dogs.  We  found 
his  track  in  the  sand  some  places  where  he  missed  the 
water  and  tracked  him  clear  from  where  we  found  Flora 
to  the  cave  he  was  lying  in.  Fair  trial — hell !  We're  just 
waitin'  for  er  can  o'  oil.  You  go  back  and  read  your 
law  books — we'll  tend  ter  this  devil." 

The  messenger  came  with  the  oil  and  the  crowd  moved 
forward.  Hose  shouted,  "  Down  by  Tom  Camp's  by  his 
spring,  down  the  spring  branch  to  the  Flat  Rock  where  he 
killed  her!" 

On  the  crowd  moved,  swaying  back  and  forth  with 
Gaston  in  their  midst  by  Dick's  side  begging  for  a  fair 
trial  for  him.  A  crowd  that  hurries  and  does  not  shout 
is  a  fearful  thing.  There  is  something  inhuman  in  its 
uncanny  silence. 

Gaston's  voice  sounded  strained  and  discordant.    They 


A  Thousand-Legged  Beast  379 

paid  no  more  attention  to  his  protest  than  to  the  chirp 
of  a  cricket. 

They  reached  the  spot  where  the  child's  body  had  been 
found.  They  tied  the  screaming,  praying  negro  to  a  live 
pine  and  piled  around  his  body  a  great  heap  of  dead 
wood  and  saturated  it  with  oil.  And  then  they  poured 
oil  on  his  clothes. 

Gaston  looked  around  him  begging  first  one  man  then 
another  to  help  him  fight  the  crowd  and  rescue  him. 
Not  a  hand  was  lifted,  or  a  voice  raised  in  protest.  There 
was  not  a  negro  among  them.  Not  only  was  no  negro 
in  that  crowd,  but  there  was  not  a  cabin  in  all  that 
county  that  would  not  have  given  shelter  to  the  brute, 
though  they  knew  him  guilty  of  the  crime  charged  against 
him.  This  was  the  one  terrible  fact  that  paralysed  Gas- 
ton's  efforts. 

Hose  Norman  stepped  forward  to  apply  a  match  and 
Gaston  grasped  his  arm. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Hose,  wait  a  minute ! "  he  begged. 
"  Don't  disgrace  our  town,  our  county,  our  state,  and 
our  claims  to  humanity  by  this  insane  brutality .  A«  beast 
wouldn't  do  this.  You  wouldn't  kill  a  mad  dog  or  a 
rattlesnake  in  such  a  way.  If  you  will  kill  him,  shoot 
him  or  knock  him  in  the  head  with  a  rock, — don't  burn 
him  alive ! " 

Hose  glared  at  him  and  quietly  remarked, 

"  Are  you  done  now  ?  If  you  are,  stand  out  of  the 
way!" 

He  struck  the  match  and  Dick  uttered  a  scream.  As 
Hose  leaned  forward  with  his  match  Gaston  knocked 
him  down,  and  a  dozen  stalwart  men  were  upon  him  in 
a  moment. 

"  Knock  the  fool  in  the  head !  "  one  shouted. 

"  Pin  his  arms  behind  him !  "  said  another. 

Some  one  quickly  pinioned  his  arms  with  a  cord.    He 


380  The  Leopard's  Spots 

stood  in  helpless  rage  and  pity,  and  as  he  saw  the  match 
applied,  bowed  his  head  and  burst  into  tears. 

He  looked  up  at  the  silent  crowd  standing  there  like 
voiceless  ghosts  with  renewed  wonder. 

Under  the  glare  of  the  light  and  the  tears  the  crowd 
seemed  to  melt  into  a  great  crawling  swaying  creature, 
half  reptile  half  beast,  half  dragon  half  man,  with  a  thou- 
sand legs,  and  a  thousand  eyes,  and  ten  thousand  gleam- 
ing teeth,  and  with  no  ear  to  hear  and  no  heart  to  pity ! 

All  they  would  grant  him  was  the  privilege  of  gather- 
ing Dick's  ashes  and  charred  bones  for  burial. 


The  morning  following  the  lynching,  the  Preacher  hur- 
ried to  Tom  Camp's  to  see  how  he  was  bearing  the 
strain. 

His  door  was  wide  open,  the  bureau  drawers  pulled 
out,  ransacked,  and  some  of  their  contents  were  lying 
on  the  floor. 

"  Poor  old  fellow,  I'm  afraid  he's  gone  crazy !  "  ex- 
claimed the  Preacher.  He  hurried  to  the  cemetery.  There 
he  found  Tom  at  the  newly  made  grave.  He  had  worked 
through  the  night  and  dug  the  grave  open  with  his  bare 
hands  and  pulled  the  coffin  up  out  of  the  ground.  He 
had  broken  his  finger  nails  all  off  trying  to  open  it  and 
his  fingers  were  bleeding.  At  last  he  had  given  up  the 
effort  to  open  the  coffin,  sat  down  beside  it,  and  was  ar- 
ranging her  toys  he  had  made  for  her  beside  the  box. 
He  had  brought  a  lot  of  her  clothes,  a  pair  of  little  shoes 
and  stockings,  and  a  bonnet,  and  he  had  placed  these  out 
carefully  on  top  of  the  lid.  He  was  talking  to  her. 

The  Preacher  lifted  him  gently  and  led  him  away,  a 
hopeless  madman. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  BLACK  PERIL 

THE  longer  Gaston  pondered  over  the  tragic  events 
of  that  lynching  the  more  sinister  and  terrible 
became  its  meaning,  and  the  deeper  he  was 
plunged  in  melancholy. 

Beyond  all  doubt,  within  his  own  memory,  since  the 
negroes  under  Legree's  lead  had  drawn  the  colour  line 
in  politics,  the  races  had  been  drifting  steadily  apart.  The 
gulf  was  now  impassable. 

Such  crimes  as  Dick  had  committed,  and  for  which  he 
had  paid  such  an  awful  penalty,  were  unknown  abso- 
lutely under  slavery,  and  were  unknown  for  two  years 
after  the  war.  Their  first  appearance  was  under  Le- 
gree's regime.  Now,  scarcely  a  day  passed  in  the  South 
without  the  record  of  such  an  atrocity,  swiftly  followed 
by  a  lynching,  and  lynching  thus  had  become  a  habit  for 
all  grave  crimes. 

Since  McLeod's  triumph  in  the  state  such  crimes  had 
increased  with  alarming  rapidity.  The  encroachments  of 
negroes  upon  public  offices  had  been  slow  but  resistless. 
Now  there  were  nine  hundred  and  fifty  negro  magistrates 
in  the  state  elected  for  no  reason  except  the  colour  of 
their  skin.  Feeling  themselves  intrenched  behind  state 
and  Federal  power,  the  insolence  of  a  class  of  young 
negro  men  was  becoming  more  and  more  intolerable. 
What  would  happen  to  these  fools  when  once  they  roused 
that  thousand-legged,  thousand-eyed  beast  with  its  ten 

381 


382  The  Leopard's  Spots 

thousand  teeth  and  nails!  He  had  looked  into  its  face, 
and  he  shuddered  to  recall  the  hour. 

He  knew  that  this  power  of  racial  fury  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  when  aroused  was  resistless,  and  that  it  would 
sweep  its  victims  before  its  wrath  like  chaff  before  a 
whirlwind. 

And  then  he  thought  of  the  day  fast  coming  when  cul- 
ture and  wealth  would  give  the  African  the  courage  of 
conscious  strength  and  he  would  answer  that  soul  pierc- 
ing shriek  of  his  kindred  for  help,  and  that  other  thou- 
sand-legged beast,  now  crouching  in  the  shadows,  would 
meet  thousand-legged  beast  around  that  beacon  fire  of  a 
Godless  revenge! 

More  and  more  the  impossible  position  of  the  Negro 
in  America  came  home  to  his  mind.  He  was  fast  being 
overwhelmed  with  the  conviction  that  sooner  or  later  we 
must  squarely  face  the  fact  that  two  such  races,  counting 
millions  in  numbers,  can  not  live  together  under  a 
Democracy. 

He  recalled  the  fact  that  there  were  more  negroes  in  the 
United  States  than  inhabitants  in  Mexico,  the  third  re- 
public of  the  world. 

Amalgamation  simply  meant  Africanisation.  The  big 
nostrils,  flat  nose,  massive  jaw,  protruding  lip  and  kinky 
hair  will  register  their  animal  marks  over  the  proudest 
intellect  and  the  rarest  beauty  of  any  other  race.  The 
rule  that  had  no  exception  was  that  one  drop  of  Negro 
blood  makes  a  negro. 

What  could  be  the  outcome  of  it  ?  What  was  his  duty 
as  a  citizen  and  a  member  of  civilised  society  ?  Since  the 
scenes  through  which  he  had  passed  with  Tom  Camp  and 
that  mob  the  question  was  insistent  and  personal.  It 
clouded  his  soul  and  weighed  on  him  like  the  horrors  of 
a  nightmare. 

Again  and  agam  the  fateful  words  the  Preacher  had 


The  Black  Peal  383 

dinned  into  his  ears  since  childhood  pressed  upon 
him, 

"  You  can  not  build  in  a  Democracy  a  nation  inside 
a  nation  of  two  antagonistic  races.  The  future  American 
must  be  an  Anglo-Saxon  or  a  Mulatto." 

His  depression  and  brooding  over  the  fearful  events 
in  which  he  had  so  recently  taken  part  had  tinged  his 
life  and  all  its  hopes  with  sadness.  He  had  re- 
flected this  in  his  letters  to  Sallie  Worth  without  even 
mentioning  the  events.  His  heart  was  full  of  sickening 
foreboding.  How  could  one  love  and  be  happy  in  a 
world  haunted  by  such  horrors!  He  had  begged  her  to 
hasten  her  hour  of  final  decision.  He  told  her  of  his 
sense  of  loneliness  and  isolation,  and  of  his  inexpressible 
need  of  her  love  and  presence  in  his  daily  life. 

Her  answer  had  only  intensified  his  moody  feelings. 
She  had  written  that  her  love  grew  stronger  every  day 
and  his  love  more  and  more  became  necessary  to  her  life, 
and  yet  she  could  not  cloud  its  future  with  the  anger  of 
her  father  and  the  broken  heart  of  her  mother  by  an 
elopement.  She  feared  such  a  shock  would  be  fatal  and 
all  her  life  would  be  embittered  by  it.  They  must  wait. 
She  was  using  all  her  skill  to  win  her  father,  but  as  yet 
without  success.  But  she  determined  to  win  him,  and  it 
would  be  so. 

All  this  seemed  so  far  away  and  shadowy  to  Gaston's 
eager  restless  soul. 

The  letter  had  closed  by  saying  she  was  preparing  for 
another  trip  to  Boston  to  visit  Helen  Lowell  and  that 
she  should  be  absent  at  least  a  month.  She  asked  that  his 
next  letter  be  addressed  to  Boston. 

Somehow  Boston  seemed  just  then  out  of  the  world  on 
another  planet,  it  was  so  far  away  and  its  people  and 
their  life  so  unreal  to  his  imagination. 

But  he  sighed  and  turned  resolutely  to  his  work  of 


384  The  Leopard's  Spots 

preparation  for  an  event  in  his  life  which  he  meant  to 
make  great  in  the  history  of  the  state.  It  was  the  meet- 
ing of  the  Democratic  convention,  as  yet  nearly  two 
years  in  the  future.  He  held  a  subordinate  position  in 
his  party's  councils,  but  defeat  and  ruin  had  taken  the 
conceit  out  of  the  old  line  leaders  arid  he  knew  that  his 
day  was  drawing  near. 

"  I'll  take  my  place  among  the  leaders  and  masters  of 
men/'  he  told  himself  with  quiet  determination,  "  I 
will  compel  the  General's  respect;  and  if  I  can  not  wk 
his  consent,  I  will  take  her  without  it." 


CHAPTER  VII 
EQUALITY  WITH  A  RESERVATION 

THE  lynching  at  Hambright  had  stirred  the  whole 
nation  into  unusual  indignant  interest.  It  hap- 
pened to  be  the  climax  of  a  series  of  such  crimes 
committed  in  the  South  in  rapid  succession,  and  the  death 
of  this  negro  was  reported  with  more  than  usual  vividness 
by  a  young  newspaper  man  of  genius. 

A  grand  mass  meeting  was  called  in  Cooper  Union, 
New  York,  at  which  were  gathered  delegates  from  dif- 
ferent cities  and  states  to  give  emphasis  and  unity  to  the 
movement  and  issue  an  appeal  to  the  national  govern- 
mento 

When  Sallie  Worth  reached  Boston,  she  found  Helen 
Lowell  at  home  alone0  The  Hon.  Everett  Lowell  had 
made  one  of  the  speeches  of  his  career  at  the  mass  meet- 
ing held  in  Faneuil  Hall,  and  he  was  in  New  York  where 
he  had  gone  to  make  the  principal  address  in  the  Cooper 
Union  Convention  of  Negro  sympathisers. 

George  Harris  had  accompanied  him,  supremely  fas- 
cinated by  the  eloquent  and  masterful  appeal  for  human 
brotherhood  he  had  heard  him  make  in  Boston.  There 
was  something  pathetic  in  the  dog-like  worship  this 
young  negro  gave  to  his  brilliant  patron.  In  his  life  in 
New  England  he  had  been  shocked  more  than  once  by 
the  brutal  prejudices  of  the  people  against  his  race.  His 
soul  had  been  tried  to  the  last  of  its  powers  of  endurance 
at  times.  He  found  to  his  amazement  that,  when  put  to 

3*5 


386  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  test,  the  masses  of  the  North  had  even  deeper  repug- 
nance to  the  person  of  a  Negro  than  the  Southerners  who 
grew  up  with  him  from  the  cradle.  He  had  found  himself 
cut  off  from  every  honourable  way  of  earning  his  bread, 
gentleman  and  scholar  though  he  was,  and  had  looked 
into  the  river  as  he  walked  over  the  bridge  to  Cambridge 
one  night  with  a  well-nigh  resistless  impulse  to  end  it  all. 

But  Lowell  had  cheered  him,  laughed  his  gloomy  ideas 
to  scorn,  and  more  practical  still,  he  had  secured  him  a 
clerkship  in  the  Custom  House  which  settled  the  problem 
of  bread.  Others  had  failed  him,  but  this  man  of  trained 
powers  had  never  failed  him.  He  had  taught  him  to  lift 
up  his  head  and  look  the  world  squarely  in  the  face, 
Lowell  was,  to  his  vivid  African  imagination,  the  ideal 
man  made  in  the  image  of  God,  calm  in  judgment,  free 
from  all  superstitions  and  prejudices,  a  citizen  of  the 
world  of  human  thought,  a  prince  of  that  vast  ethical 
aristocracy  of  the  free  thinkers  of  all  ages  who  knew  no 
racial  or  conventional  barriers  between  man  and  man. 

Harris  had  published  a  volume  of  poems  which  he  had 
dedicated  to  Lowell,  and  his  most  inspiring  verse  was 
simply  the  outpouring  of  his  soul  in  worship  of  this  ideal 
man. 

He  was  his  devoted  worshipper  for  another  and  more 
powerful  reason.  In  his  daily  intercourse  with  him  in 
his  library  during  his  campaigns  he  had  frequently  met 
his  beautiful  daughter,  and  had  fallen  deeply  and  madly 
in  love  with  her.  This  secret  passion  he  had  kept  hidden 
in  his  sensitive  soul.  He  had  worshipped  her  from  afar 
as  though  she  had  been  a  white-robed  angel.  To  see  her 
and  be  in  the  same  house  with  her  was  all  he  asked.  Now 
and  then  he  had  stood  beside  the  piano  and  turned  the 
music  while  she  played  and  sang  one  of  his  new  pieces, 
and  he  would  live  on  that  scene  for  months,  eating  his 
heart  out  with  voiceless  yearnings  he  dared  not  express. 


Equality  with  a  Reservation  387 

In  his  music  he  made  his  greatest  success.  There  was 
a  fiery  sweep  to  his  passion,  and  a  deep  oriental  rhythm 
in  his  cadence  that  held  the  imagination  of  his  hearers  in 
a  spelL  It  is  needless  to  say  it  was  in  this  music  he 
breathed  his  secret  love. 

At  first  he  had  not  dared  to  hope  for  the  day  when  he 
could  declare  this  secret  or  take  his  place  in  the  list  of  her 
admirers  and  fight  for  his  chance.  But  of  late,  a  great 
hope  had  filled  his  soul  and  illumined  the  world.  As  he 
had  listened  to  Lowell's  impassioned  appeals  for  human 
brotherhood,  his  scathing  ridicule  of  pride  and  prejudice, 
and  the  poetic  beauty  of  the  language  in  which  he  pro- 
claimed his  own  emancipation  from  all  the  laws  of  caste, 
the  fiery  eloquence  with  which  he  trampled  upon  all  the 
barriers  man  had  erected  against  his  fellow  man,  his  soul 
was  thrilled  into  ecstasy  with  the  conviction  that  this 
scholar  and  scientific  thinker,  at  least,  was  a  free  man. 
He  was  sure  that  he  had  risen  above  the  limitations  of 
provincialisms,  racial  or  national  prejudices. 

He  had  begun  to  dream  of  the  day  he  would  ask  this 
Godlike  man  for  the  privilege  of  addressing  his  daughter. 

The  great  meeting  at  Cooper  Union  had  brought  this 
dream  to  a  sudden  resolution  Lowell  had  outdone  him- 
self that  night  With,  merciless  invective  he  had  de- 
nounced the  inhuman  barbarism  of  the  South  in  these 
lynchings,  The  sea  of  eager  faces  had  answered  his  ap- 
peals as  water  the  breath  of  a  storm.  He  felt  its  mighty 
reflex  influence  sweep  back  on  his  soul  and  lift  him  to 
greater  heights.  He  demanded  equality  of  man  on  every 
inch  of  this  earth's  soil . 

"  I  demand  this  perfect  equality,"  he  cried,  "  absolutely 
without  reservation  or  subterfuge,  both  in  form  and  es- 
sential reality.  It  is  the  life-blood  of  Democracy.  It  is 
the  reason  of  our  existence.  Without  this  we  are  a  living 
lie,  a  stench  in  the  nostrils  of  God  and  humanity ! " 


3&8  The  Leopard's  Spots 

A  cheer  from  a  thousand  negro  throats  rent  the  air  as 
he  thus  closed.  The  crowd  surged  over  the  platform  and 
for  ten  minutes  it  was  impossible  to  restore  order  or  con- 
tinue the  programme.  Young  Harris  pressed  his  pa- 
tron's hand  and  kissed  it  while  tears  of  pride  and  grati- 
tude rained  down  his  face. 

This  speech  made  a  national  sensationc  It  was  printed 
in  full  in  all  the  partisan  papers  where  it  was  hoped  capi- 
tal might  be  made  of  it  for  the  next  political  campaign, 
and  the  National  Campaign  Committee  of  which  he  was  a 
member  ordered  a  million  copies  of  it  printed  for  distri- 
bution among  the  negroes. 

When  Lowell  and  Harris  reached  Boston,  as  they 
parted  at  the  depot  Harris  said, 

"  Will  you  be  at  home  to-morrow,  Mr.  Lowell  ?  " 

"Yes,  why?" 

"  I  would  like  a  talk  with  you  in  the  morning  on  a 
matter  of  grave  importance.  May  I  call  at  nine 
o'clock  ?'• 

"  Certainly.  Come  right  into  the  library.  You'll  find 
me  there,  George." 

That  night  as  Lowell  walked  through  his  brilliantly 
lighted  home,  he  felt  a  sense  of  glowing  pride  and 
strength.  With  his  hands  behind  him  he  paced  back  and 
forth  in  his  great  library  and  out  through  the  spacious 
hall  with  firm  tread  and  flushed  face.  He  felt  he  could 
look  these  great  ancestors  in  the  face  to-night  as  they 
gazed  down  on  him  from  their  heavy  gold  frames.  They 
had  called  him  to  high  ambitions  and  a  strenuous  life 
when  his  indolence  had  pleaded  for  ease  and  the  dilettante- 
ism  of  a  fruitless  dreaming.  His  father  had  cultivated 
his  artistic  tastes,  dreamed  and  done  nothing.  But  these 
grim-visaged,  eagle-eyed  ancestors  had  called  him  to  a 
life  of  realities,  and  he  had  heard  their  voices, 

Yes,  to-night  his  name  was  on  a  million  lips.     The 


Equality  with  a  Reservation  389 

door  of  the  United  States  Senate  was  opening  at  his 
touch  and  mightier  possibilities  loomed  in  the  future . 

He  felt  a  sense  of  gratitude  for  the  heritage  of  that 
stately  old  home  and  its  inspiring  memories.  Its  roots 
struck  down  into  the  soil  of  a  thousand  years,  and 
spread  beneath  the  ocean  to  that  greater  old  world  life. 
He  felt  his  heart  beat  with  pride  that  he  was  adding  new 
honours  to  that  family  history,  and  adding  to  the  soul- 
treasures  his  daughter's  children  would  inherit. 

Seated  in  the  library  next  morning  Harris  was  nervous 
and  embarrassed.  He  made  two  or  three  attempts  to 
begin  the  subject  but  turned  aside  with  some  unimportant 
remark, 

"  Well,  George,  what  is  the  problem  that  makes  you  so 
grave  this  morning  ?  "  asked  Lowell  with  kindly  patron- 
age. 

Harris  felt  that  his  hour  had  come,  and  he  must  face  it. 
He  leaned  forward  in  his  chair  and  looked  steadily  down 
at  the  rug,  while  he  clasped  both  his  hands  firmly  across 
his  lap  and  spoke  with  great  rapidity. 

"  Mr.  Lowell,  I  wish  to  say  to  you  that  you  have  taught 
me  the  greatest  faith  of  life,  faith  in  my  fellow  man  with- 
out which  there  can  be  no  faith  in  God.  What  I  have 
suffered  as  a  man  as  I  have  come  in  contact  with  the  bru- 
tality with  which  my  race  is  almost  universally  treated, 
God  only  can  ever  know. 

"  The  culture  I  have  received  has  simply  multiplied  a 
thousandfold  my  capacity  to  suffer.  But  for  the  inspira- 
tion of  your  manhood  I  would  have  ended  my  life  in  the 
river.  In  you,  I  saw  a  great  light.  I  saw  a  man  really 
made  in  the  image  of  God  with  mind  and  soul  trained, 
with  head  erect,  scorning  the  weak  prejudices  of  caste, 
which  dare  to  call  the  image  of  God  clean  or  unclean  iis 
passion  or  pride. 

"  I  lifted  up  my  head  and  said,  one  such  man  redeems 


390  The  Leopard's  Spots 

a  world  from  infamy.  It's  worth  while  to  live  in  a  world 
honoured  by  one  such  man,  for  he  is  the  prophecy  of  more 
to  come." 

He  paused  a  moment,  fidgeted  with  a  piece  of  paper 
he  had  picked  up  from  the  table  and  seemed  at  a  loss  for  a 
word. 

It  never  dawned  on  Lowell  what  he  was  driving  at. 
He  supposed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  he  was  referring  to 
his  great  speeches  and  was  going  to  ask  for  some  promo- 
tion in  a  governmental  department  at  Washington. 

"  I'm  proud  to  have  been  such  an  inspiration  to  you, 
George.  You  know  how  much  I  think  of  you.  What  is 
on  your  mind  ?  "  he  asked  at  length. 

"  I  have  hidden  it  from  every  human  eye,  sir,  I  am 
afraid  to  breath  it  aloud  alone.  I  have  only  tried  to  sing 
it  in  song  in  an  impersonal  way.  Your  wonderful  words 
of  late  have  emboldened  me  to  speak.  It  is  this — I  am 
madly,  desperately  in  love  with  your  daughter." 

Lowell  sprang  to  his  feet  as  though  a  bolt  of  lightning 
had  suddenly  shot  down  his  backbone.  He  glared  at  the 
negro  with  wide  dilated  eyes  and  heaving  breath  as  though 
he  had  been  transformed  into  a  leopard  or  tiger  and  was 
about  to  spring  at  his  throat. 

Before  answering,  and  with  a  gesture  commanding 
silence,  he  walked  rapidly  to  the  library  door  and  closed 
it. 

"  And  I  have  come  to  ask  you,"  continued  Harris  ig- 
noring his  gesture,  "  if  I  may  pay  my  addresses  to  her 
with  your  consent." 

"  Harris,  this  is  crazy  nonsense.  Such  an  idea  is  pre- 
posterous. I  am  amazed  that  it  should  ever  have  entered 
your  head.  Let  this  be  the  end  of  it  here  and  now,  if  you 
have  any  desire  to  retain  my  friendship." 

Lowell  said  this  with  a  scowl,  and  an  emphasis  of  indig- 
nant rising  inflection.  The  negro  seemed  stunned  by 


Equality  witn  a  Reservation  391 

this  swift  blow  in  his  very  teeth,  that  seemed  to  place  him 
outside  the  pale  of  a  human  being. 

"  Why  is  such  a  hope  unreasonable,  sir,  to  a  man  of 
your  scientific  mind  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  question  of  taste,"  snapped  Lowell. 

"  Am  I  not  a  graduate  of  the  same  university  with  you  ? 
Did  I  not  stand  as  high,  and  age  for  age,  am  I  not  your 
equal  in  culture  ?  " 

"  Granted.  Nevertheless  you  are  a  negro,  and  I  do 
not  desire  the  infusion  of  your  blood  in  my  family." 

"  But  I  have  more  of  white  than  Negro  blood,  sir." 

"  So  much  the  worse.     It  is  the  mark  of  shame." 

"  But  it  is  the  one  drop  of  Negro  blood  at  which  your 
taste  revolts,  is  it  not?  " 

"  To  be  frank,  it  is." 

"  Why  is  it  an  unpardonable  sin  in  me  that  my  ances- 
tors were  born  under  tropic  skies  where  skin  and  hair 
were  tanned  and  curled  to  suit  the  sun's  fierce  rays  ?  " 

"  All  tropic  races  are  not  negroes,  and  your  race  has 
characteristics  apart  from  accidents  of  climate  that  make 
it  unique  in  the  annals  of  man,"  rejoined  Lowell. 

"  And  yet  you  demand  perfect  equality  of  man  with 
man,  absolutely  in  form  and  substance  without  reserva- 
tion or  subterfuge ! " 

"  Yes,  political  equality." 

"  Politics  is  but  a  secondary  phenomenon  of  society. 
You  said  absolute  equality,"  protested  Harris. 

"  The  question  you  broach  is  a  question  of  taste,  and  the 
deeper  social  instincts  of  racial  purity  and  self  preserva- 
tion. I  care  not  what  your  culture,  or  your  genius,  or 
your  position,  I  do  not  desire,  and  will  not  permit,  a  mix- 
ture of  Negro  blood  in  my  family.  The  idea  is  nauseat- 
ing, and  to  my  daughter  it  would  be  repulsive  beyond  the 
power  of  words  to  express  it !  " 

"  And  yet,"  pleaded  Harris,  "  you  invited  me  to  your 


392  The  Leopard's  Spots 

home,  introduced  me  to  your  daughter,  seated  me  at  youf 
table,  and  used  me  in  your  appeal  to  your  constituents, 
and  now  when  I  dare  ask  the  privilege  of  seeking  her 
hand  in  honourable  marriage,  you,  the  scholar,  patriot, 
statesman  and  philosopher  of  Equality  and  Democracy, 
slam  the  door  in  my  face  and  tell  me  that  I  am  a  negro ! 
Is  this  fair  or  manly  ?  " 

"  I  fail  to  see  its  unfairness." 

"  It  is  amazing.  You  are  a  master  of  history  and  so- 
ciology. You  know  as  clearly  as  I  do  that  social  inter- 
course is  the  only  possible  pathway  to  love.  And  you 
opened  it  to  me  with  your  own  hand.  Could  I  control  the 
beat  of  my  heart  ?  There  are  some  powers  within  us  that 
are  involuntary.  You  could  have  prevented  my  meeting 
your  daughter  as  an  equal.  But  all  the  will  power  of  earth 
could  not  prevent  my  loving  her,  when  once  I  had  seen 
her,  and  spoken  to  her.  The  sound  of  the  human  voice, 
the  touch  of  the  human  hand  in  social  equality  are  the 
divine  sacraments  that  open  the  mystery  of  love." 

"  Social  rights  are  one  thing,  political  rights  another," 
interrupted  Lowell. 

"  I  deny  it.  If  you  are  honest  with  yourself,  you  know 
it  is  not  true.  Politics  is  but  a  manifestation  of  society. 
Society  rests  on  the  family.  The  family  is  the  unit  of 
civilisation.  The  right  to  love  and  wed  where  one  loves 
is  the  badge  of  fellowship  in  the  order  of  humanity.  The 
man  who  is  denied  this  right  in  any  society  is  not  a  mem- 
ber of  it.  He  is  outside  any  manifestation  of  its  essential 
life.  You  had  as  well  talk  about  the  importance  of 
clothes  for  a  dead  man,  as  political  rights  for  such  a 
pariah.  You  have  classed  him  with  the  beasts  of  the  field. 
As  a  human  unit  he  does  not  exist  for  you." 

"  Harris,  it  is  utterly  useless  to  argue  a  point  like  this," 
Lowell  interrupted  coldly.  "  This  must  be  the  end  of  our 
acquaintance.  You  must  not  enter  my  house  again." 


Equality  with  a  Reservation  393 

"  My  God,  sir,  you  can't  kick  me  out  of  your  home  like 
this  when  you  brought  me  to  it,  and  made  it  an  issue  of 
life  or  death!" 

"  I  tell  you  again  you  are  crazy.  I  have  brought  you 
here  against  her  wishes.  She  left  the  house  with  her 
friend  this  morning  to  avoid  seeing  you.  Your  presence 
has  always  been  repulsive  to  her,  and  with  me  it  has  been 
a  political  study,  not  a  social  pleasure." 

"  I  beg  for  only  a  desperate  chance  to  overcome  this 
feeling.  Surely  a  man  of  your  profound  learning  and 
genius  can  not  sympathise  with  such  prejudices?  Let  me 
try — let  her  decide  the  issue." 

"  I  decline  to  discuss  the  question  any  further." 

"  I  can't  give  up  without  a  struggle !  "  the  negro  cried 
with  desperation. 

Lowell  arose  with  a  gesture  of  impatience. 

"  Now  you  are  getting  to  be  simply  a  nuisance.  To  be 
perfectly  plain  with  you,  I  haven't  the  slightest  desire 
that  my  family  with  its  proud  record  of  a  thousand  years 
of  history  and  achievement  shall  end  in  this  stately  old 
house  in  a  brood  of  mulatto  brats !  " 

Harris  winced  and  sprang  to  his  feet,  trembling  with 
passion.  "  I  see,"  he  sneered,  "  the  soul  of  Simon  Le- 
gree  has  at  last  become  the  soul  of  the  nation*  The 
South  expresses  the  same  luminous  truth  with  a  little 
more  clumsy  brutality.  But  their  way  is  after  all  more 
merciful.  The  human  body  becomes  unconscious  at  the 
touch  of  an  oil-fed  flame  in  sixty  seconds.  Your  meth- 
ods are  more  refined  and  more  hellish  in  cruelty.  You 
have  trained  my  ears  to  hear,  eyes  to  see,  hands  to  touch 
and  heart  to  feel,  that  you  might  torture  with  the  denial 
of  every  cry  of  body  and  soul  and  roast  me  in  the  flames 
of  impossible  desires  for  time  and  eternity !  " 

"  That  will  do  now.  There's  the  door !  "  thundered 
Lowell  with  a  gesture  of  stern  emphasis.  "  I  happen  to 


394  The  Leopard's  Spots 

know  the  important  fact  that  a  man  or  woman  of  negro 
ancestry,  though  a  century  removed,  will  suddenly  breed 
back  to  a  pure  negro  child,  thick  lipped,  kinky  headed, 
flat  nosed,  black  skinned .  One  drop  of  your  blood  in  my 
family  could  push  it  backward  three  thousand  years  in 
history.  If  you  were  able  to  win  her  consent,  a  thing 
unthinkable,  I  would  do  what  old  Virginius  did  in  the 
Roman  Forum,  kill  her  with  my  own  hand,  rather  than 
see  her  sink  in  your  arms  into  the  black  waters  of  a 
Negroid  life !  Now  go  1 " 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  NEW  SIMON  LEGREE 

HARRIS  immediately  resigned  his  office  in  the  cus- 
tom house  which  he  owed  to  Lowell  and  began 
a  search  for  employment. 

"  I  will  not  be  a  pensioner  of  a  government  of  hypo- 
crites and  liars,"  he  exclaimed  as  he  sealed  his  letter  of 
resignation. 

And  then  began  his  weary  tramp  in  search  of  work. 
Day  after  day,  week  after  week,  he  got  the  same  answer — 
an  emphatic  refusal.  The  only  thing  open  to  a  negro  was 
a  position  as  porter,  or  bootblack,  or  waiter  in  second- 
rate  hotels  and  restaurants,  or  in  domestic  service  as 
coachman,  butler  or  footman.  He  was  no  more  fitted  for 
these  places  than  he  was  to  live  with  his  head  under  water. 

"  I  will  blow  my  brains  out  before  I  will  prostitute  my 
intellect,  and  my  consciousness  of  free  manhood  by  such 
degrading  associates  and  such  menial  service ! "  he  de- 
clared with  sullen  fury. 

At  last  he  determined  to  lay  aside  his  pride  and  educa- 
tion and  learn  a  manual  trade.  Not  a  labour  union  would 
allow  him  to  enter  its  ranks. 

He  managed  to  earn  a  few  dollars  at  odd  jobs  and  went 
to  New  York.  Here  he  was  treated  with  greater  bru- 
tality than  in  Boston.  At  last  he  got  a  position  in  a  big 
clothing  factory.  He  was  so  bright  in  colour  that  the 
manager  never  suspected  that  he  was  a  negro,  as  he  was 
accustomed  to  employing  swarthy  Jews  from  Poland  and 
Russia. 

395 


39$  The  Leopard's  Spots 

When  Harris  entered  the  factory  the  employees  discov- 
ered within  an  hour  his  race,  laid  down  their  work,  and 
walked  out  on  a  strike  until  he  was  removed. 

He  again  tried  to  break  into  a  labour  union  and  get  the 
protection  of  its  constitution  and  laws.  He  managed  at 
last  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  labour  leader  who  had 
been  a  Quaker  preacher,  and  was  elated  to  discover  that 
his  name  was  Hugh  Halliday,  and  that  he  was  a  son  of 
one  of  the  Hallidays  who  had  assisted  in  the  rescue  of  his 
mother  and  father  from  slavery.  He  told  Halliday  his 
history  and  begged  his  intercession  with  the  labour  union. 

"  I'll  try  for  you,  Harris,"  he  said,  "  but  it's  a  doubtful 
experiment.  The  men  fear  the  Negro  as  a  pestilence." 

"  Do  the  best  you  can  for  me.  I  must  have  bread.  I 
only  ask  a  man's  chance,"  answered  Harris.  Halliday 
proposed  his  name  and  backed  it  up  with  a  strong  per- 
sonal endorsement,  gave  a  brief  sketch  of  his  culture  and 
accomplishments  and  asked  that  he  be  allowed  to  learn 
the  bricklayer's  trade. 

When  his  name  came  up  before  the  Brick  Layers' 
Union,  and  it  was  announced  that  he  was  a  negro,  it  pre- 
cipitated a  debate  of  such  fury  that  it  threatened  to  de- 
velop into  a  riot. 

One  of  the  men  sprang  toward  the  presiding  officer  with 
blazing  eyes,  gesticulating  wildly  until  recognised. 

"  I  have  this  to  say,"  he  shouted.  "  No  negro  shall 
ever  enter  the  door  of  this  Union  except  over  my  dead 
body.  The  Negro  can  under  live  us.  We  can  not  com- 
pete with  him,  and  as  a  race  we  can  not  organise  him. 
Let  him  stay  in  the  South.  We  have  no  room  for  him 
here,  and  we  will  kill  him  if  he  tries  to  take  our  bread 
from  us ! " 

"  Have  you  no  sympathy  for  his  age-long  sufferings  in 
slavery  ?  "  interrupted  Halliday. 

"  Slavery !    of  all  the  delusions  the  idea  that  slavery 


The  New  Simon  Legree  397 

was  abolished  in  this  country  in  1865  is  the  silliest  Sla- 
very was  never  firmly  established  until  the  chattel  form 
was  abandoned  for  the  wage  system  in  1865.  Chattel 
slavery  was  too  expensive.  The  wage  system  is  cheaper. 
Now  they  never  have  to  worry  about  food,  or  clothes,  or 
houses,  or  the  children,  or  the  aged  and  infirm  among 
wage  slaveSo 

"  Once  the  master  hunted  the  slave, — now  the  slave 
must  hunt  the  master,  beg  for  the  privilege  of  serving 
him  and  trample  others  to  death  trying  to  fasten  the 
chains  on  when  a  brother  slave  drops  dead  in  his  tracks. 

"  No,  I  don't  shed  any  crocodile  tears  over  the  Negro 
slavery  of  the  South.  It  was  a  mild  form  of  servitude, 
in  which  the  Negro  had  plenty  to  eat  and  wear,  never  suf- 
fered from  cold,  slept  soundly  and  reared  his  children  in 
droves  with  never  a  thought  for  the  morrow. 

"  Then  mothers  and  babes  were  sometimes,  though  not 
often,  separated  by  an  executor's  or  sheriffs  sale.  Now, 
we  know  better  than  to  allow  babes  to  be  born.  Then,  a 
babe  was  a  valuable  asset  and  received  the  utmost  care. 
Now,  we  have  baby  farms  which  we  fertilise  with  their 
bones.  I  know  of  one  old  hag  in  this  city  who  has  killed 
over  two  thousand  babes. 

"  What  chance  has  your  girl  or  mine  to  marry  and  build 
a  home?  Not  one  in  a  hundred  will  ever  feel  the  breath 
of  a  babe  at  her  breast. 

"  No !  "  he  closed  in  thunder  tones.  "  I'll  fight  the  en- 
croachment of  the  Negro  on  our  life  with  every  power  of 
body  and  soul !  " 

A  hundred  men  leaped  to  their  feet  at  once,  shouting 
and  gesticulating.  The  chairman  recognised  a  tall  dark 
man  with  a  Russian  face,  but  who  spoke  perfect  English. 

"  I,  gentlemen,  am  an  anarchist  in  principle,  and  differ 
slightly  in  the  process  by  which  I  come  to  the  same  con- 
clusion as  my  friend  who  has  taken  his  seat.  I  grieve  at 


398  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  necessity  before  the  workingmen  of  returning  to  sla- 
very. All  we  can  hope  now  for  a  century  or  two  centu- 
ries, is  socialism.  Socialism  is  simply  a  system  of  slavery 
— that  is,  enforced  labour  in  which  a  Bureaucracy  is 
master.  We  must  enter  again  a  condition  of  involuntary 
servitude  for  the  guarantee  by  the  State  of  food  and 
clothes,  shelter  and  children. 

"  It  is  no  time  to  weep  over  slavery.  The  one  thing  we 
demand  now  is  the  nationalisation  of  industries  under  the 
control  of  State  Bureaux  which  will  enforce  labour  from 
every  citizen  according  to  his  capacity,  for  the  simple 
guarantee  of  what  the  negro  slave  received,  the  satisfac- 
tion of  the  two  elemental  passions,  hunger  and  love." 

Again  a  clamour  broke  out  that  drowned  the  speaker's 
voice.  A  Socialist  and  an  Anarchist  clinched  in  a  fight, 
and  for  five  minutes  pandemonium  reigned,  but  at  the  end 
of  it  Harris  was  lying  on  the  sidewalk  with  a  gash  in  his 
head,  and  Halliday  was  bending  over  him. 

When  Harris  had  recovered  from  his  wound,  Halliday 
took  him  on  a  round  of  visits  to  big  mills  in  a  populous 
manufacturing  city  across  in  New  Jersey. 

"  These  mills  are  all  owned  by  Simon  Legree,"  he  in- 
formed Harris,"  and  the  unions  have  been  crushed  out  of 
them  by  methods  of  which  he  is  past  master.  I  don't 
know,  but  it  may  be  possible  to  get  you  in  there." 

They  tried  a  half  dozen  mills  in  vain,  and  at  last  they 
met  a  foreman  who  knew  Halliday  who  consented  to  hear 
his  plea. 

"  You  are  fooling  away  your  time  and  this  man's  time, 
Halliday,"  he  told  him  in  a  friendly  way.  "  I'd  cut  my 
right  arm  off  sooner  than  take  a  negro  in  these  mills  and 
precipitate  a  strike." 

"  But  would  a  strike  occur  with  no  union  organisa- 
tion?" 

"Yes,  in  a  minute.    You  know  Simon  Legree  who 


The  New  Simon  Legree  399 

owns  these  mills.  If  a  disturbance  occurred  here  now  the 
old  devil  wouldn't  hesitate  to  close  every  mill  next  day  and 
beggar  fifty  thousand  people." 

"  Why  would  he  do  such  a  stupid  thing?  " 

"  Just  to  show  the  brute  power  of  his  fifty  millions  of 
dollars  over  the  human  body.  The  awful  power  in  that 
brute's  hands,  represented  in  that  money,  is  something 
appalling.  Before  the  war  he  cracked  a  blacksnake  whip 
over  the  backs  of  a  handful  of  negroes.  'Now  look  at 
him,  in  his  black  silk  hat  and  faultless  dress.  With  his 
millions  he  can  commit  any  and  every  crime  from  theft 
to  murder  with  impunity.  His  power  is  greater  than  a 
monarch.  He  controls  fleets  of  ships,  mines  and  mills, 
and  has  under  his  employ  many  thousands  of  men. 
Their  families  and  associates  make  a  vast  population. 
He  buys  Judges,  Juries,  Legislatures,  and  Governors 
and  with  one  stroke  of  his  pen  to-day  can  beggar 
thousands  of  people.  He  can  equip  an  army  of  hire- 
lings, make  peace  or  war  on  his  own  account,  or  force 
the  governments  to  do  it  for  him.  He  has  neither 
faith  in  God,  nor  fear  of  the  devil.  He  regards  all  men 
as  his  enemies  and  all  women  his  game. 

"  They  say  he  used  to  haunt  the  New  Orleans'  slave 
market,  when  he  was  young  and  owned  his  Red  River 
farm,  occasionally  spending  his  last  dollar  to  buy  a  hand- 
some negro  girl  who  took  his  fancy. 

"  Look  at  him  now  with  his  bloated  face,  beastly  jaw, 
and  coarse  lips.  He  walks  the  streets  with  his  lecherous 
eyes  twinkling  like  a  snake's  and  saliva  trickling  from  the 
corners  of  his  mouth  practically  monarch  of  all  he  sur- 
veys. He  selects  his  victims  at  his  own  sweet  will,  and 
with  his  army  of  hirelings  to  do  his  bidding,  backed  by 
his  millions,  he  lives  a  charmed  life  in  a  round  of  daily 
crime. 

"  How  many  lives  he  has  blasted  among  the  population 


40O  The  Leopard's  Spots 

of  the  multitude  of  souls  dependent  on  him  for  bread, 
God  only  knows.  It  is  said  he  has  murdered  the  souls 
of  many  innocent  girls  in  these  mills — " 

"  Surely  that  is  an  exaggeration,"  broke  in  Halliday. 

"  On  the  other  hand  I  believe  the  picture  is  far  too 
mild.  I  tell  you  no  human  mind  can  conceive  the  awful 
brute  power  over  the  human  body  his  millions  hold  under 
our  present  conditions  of  life." 

There  was  a  tinge  of  deep  personal  bitterness  in  the 
man's  words  that  held  Halliday  in  a  spell  while  he  contin- 
ued, 

"  Under  our  present  conditions  men  and  women  must 
fight  one  another  like  beasts  for  food  and  shelter.  The 
wildest  dreams  of  lust  and  cruelty  under  the  old  system 
of  Southern  slavery  would  be  laughed  at  by  this  modern 
master." 

He  paused  a  moment  in  painful  reverie. 

"  There  lies  his  big  yacht  in  the  harbour  now.  She  is 
just  in  from  a  cruise  in  the  Orient.  She  cost  half  a 
million  dollars,  and  carries  a  crew  of  fifty  men.  With 
them  are  beautiful  girls  hired  at  fancy  wages  con- 
nected with  the  stewardess*  department.  She  ships  a 
new  crew  every  trip.  Not  one  of  those  young  faces  is 
ever  lifted  again  among  their  friends." 

He  paused  again  and  a  tear  coursed  down  his  face. 

"  I  confess  I  am  bitter.  I  loved  one  of  those  girls  once 
when  I  was  younger.  She  was  a  mere  child  of  seven- 
teen." His  voice  broke.  "  Yes,  she  came  back  shattered 
in  health  and  ruined.  I  am  supporting  her  now  at  a  quiet 
country  place.  She  is  dying. 

"  Think  of  the  farce  of  it  all ! "  he  continued  passion- 
ately. 

"  The  picture  of  that  brute  with  a  whip  in  his  hand 
beating  a  negro  caused  the  most  terrible  war  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world.  Three  millions  of  men  flew  at  each 


The  New  Simon  Legree  401 

other's  throats  and  for  four  years  fought  like  demons.  A 
million  men  and  six  billions  of  dollars  worth  of  property 
were  destroyed. 

"  He  was  a  poor  harmless  fool  there  beating  his  own 
faithful  slave  to  death.  Compare  that  Legree  with  the 
one  of  to-day,  and  you  compare  a  mere  stupid  man  with  a 
prince  of  hell.  But  does  this  fiend  excite  the  wrath  of  the 
righteous  ?  Far  from  it.  His  very  name  is  whispered  in 
admiring  awe  by  millions.  He  boasts  that  dozens  of 
proud  mothers  strip  their  daughters  to  the  limit  the  police 
law  will  allow  at  every  social  function  he  honours  with 
his  presence,  and  offer  to  sell  him  their  own  flesh  and 
blood  for  the  paltry  consideration  of  a  life  interest  in  one- 
third  of  his  estate!  And  he  laughs  at  them  all.  His 
name  is  magic! 

"  I  know  of  one  weak  fool,  a  petty  millionaire,  whom 
Legree  lured  into  a  speculative  trap  and  ruined.  On 
his  knees  in  his  Fifth  Avenue  palace  the  whining  coward 
kissed  Legree's  feet  and  begged  for  mercy.  He  kicked 
him  and  sneered  at  his  misery.  At  last  when  he  had  tor- 
tured him  to  the  verge  of  madness  he  offered  to  spare  him 
on  one  condition — that  he  should  give  him  his  daughter 
as  a  ransom.  And  he  did  it. 

"  No,  the  brute  power  of  such  a  man  to-day  is  beyond 
the  grasp  of  the  human  mind.  His  chances  for  debauch- 
ery and  cruelty  are  limitless.  The  brain  of  his  hirelings 
is  put  to  the  test  to  invent  new  crime  against  nature  to 
interest  his  appetites.  The  only  limit  to  his  power  of  evil 
is  the  capacity  of  the  human  mind  to  think,  and  his  body 
to  act  and  endure.  When  he  is  exhausted,  he  can  com- 
mand the  knowledge  and  the  skill  of  ages  and  the  masters 
of  all  Science  to  restore  his  strength,  while  satellites  lick 
his  feet  and  sing  his  praises — 

"  Risk  the  whim  of  such  a  man  with  the  lives  of  these 
poor  people  dependent  on  me?  No,  I'd  sooner  kill  that 


403  The  Leopard's  Spots 

negro  you  have  brought  here  and  take  my  chances  of  de- 
tection." 

Halliday  gave  up  the  task,  returned  to  New  York, 
and  sought  the  aid  of  the  greatest  labour  leader  in  Amer- 
ica, who  had  arrived  in  the  city  from  the  West  the  day 
before. 

"  No,  Halliday,"  he  said  emphatically.  "  Send  your 
negro  back  down  South.  We  don't  want  any  more  of 
them,  or  to  come  in  contact  with  them.  I  have  just  come 
from  the  West  where  a  desperate  strike  was  in  progress  in 
one  of  Legree's  mines.  Our  men  were  toiling  in  the  depth 
of  the  earth  in  midnight  darkness,  never  seeing  the  light 
of  day,  for  just  enough  to  keep  body  and  soul  together. 
They  tried  to  wring  one  little  concession  from  their  ab- 
sent master,  who  had  never  condescended  to  honour  them 
with  his  presence.  What  did  he  do?  Shut  down  his 
mines,  and  brought  up  from  the  South  a  herd  of  negroes 
who  came  crowding  to  the  mines  to  push  our  men  back 
into  hell.  We  begged  them  to  go  home  and  let  us  alone. 
They  grinned,  shuffled  and  looked  at  their  white  driver 
for  the  signal  to  go  to  work.  I  ordered  the  men  to  shoot 
them  down  like  dogs.  We  made  the  Governor  issue  a 
proclamation  driving  them  back  South  and  warning  their 
race  that  if  they  attempted  to  enter  the  borders  of  the  state 
he  would  meet  them  with  Catling  guns. 

"  No,  send  your  friend  South.  The  winters  up  here 
are  too  cold  for  him  and  the  summers  too  hot." 

In  the  meantime  Harris  walked  the  streets  with  a 
storm  of  furious  passion  raging  in  his  soul.  The  realisa- 
tion of  the  shame  and  the  horror  of  his  position !  He  was 
the  son  of  Eliza  Harris  who  had  fled  from  the  kindliest 
form  of  slavery  in  Kentucky.  He  had  a  trained  mind, 
and  the  brightest  gifts  of  musical  genius.  Yet  he  stood 
that  day  at  the  door  of  Simon  Legree  and  begged  in  vain 
for  the  privilege  of  serving  in  the  meanest  capacity  as  his 


The  New  Simon  Legrec  403 

slave!    What  a  strange  circle  of  time,  those  forty  years 
of  the  past ! 

And  then  the  tempter  whispered  the  right  word  at  the 
right  moment,  and  his  fate  was  sealed. 

"There's  but  one  thing  left.  I  will  do  it!"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

He  entered  the  employ  of  a  gambling  joint  and  deliber- 
ately began  a  life  of  crime.  After  a  month  he  won  five 
hundred  dollars,  and  went  on  a  strange  journey,  visiting 
the  scenes  in  Colorado,  Kansas,  Indiana  and  Ohio  where 
negroes  had  recently  been  burned  alive.  He  would  find 
the  ash-heap,  and  place  on  it  a  wreath  of  costly  flowers. 
He  lingered  thoughtfully  over  the  ash-piles  he  found  in 
Kansas  made  from  the  flesh  of  living  negroes.  He  tried 
to  imagine  the  figure  of  John  Brown  marching  by  his 
side,  but  instead  he  felt  the  grip  of  Simon  Legree's  hand 
on  his  throat,  living,  militant,  omnipotent .  His  soul  had 
conquered  the  world .  Yet  even  Legree  had  never  dared 
to  burn  a  negro  to  death  in  the  old  days  of  slavery. 

He  found  one  of  these  ash-heaps  at  the  foot  of  the 
monument  in  Indiana  to  the  great  Western  colleague  of 
Thaddeus  Stevens,  and  with  a  sigh  placed  his  wreath  on 
it,  and  passed  on  into  Ohio. 

He  went  to  the  spot  where  his  mother  had  climbed  up 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio  River  into  the  promised  land  of 
liberty,  and  followed  the  track  of  the  old  Underground 
Railroad  for  fugitive  slaves  a  few  miles.  He  came  to  a 
village  which  was  once  a  station  of  this  system.  Here 
strangest  of  all,  he  found  one  of  these  ash-heaps  in  the 
public  square , 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  NEW  AMERICA 

ANOTHER  year  of  struggle  and  suffering,  hope 
and  fear,  Gaston  had  passed,  and  still  he  was  no 
nearer  the  dream  of  realised  love.  If  anything 
had  changed,  the  General's  pride  had  added  new  force  to 
his  determination  that  his  daughter  should  not  marry  the 
man  who  had  defied  him. 

His  chief  reliance  for  Gaston's  defeat  was  on  time,  and 
the  broadening  of  Sallie's  mind  by  extended  travel.  He 
had  sent  her  abroad  twice,  and  this  year  he  sent  her  to 
spend  another  three  months  in  Europe. 

These  absences  seemed  only  to  intensify  her  longing 
for  her  lover.  On  her  return  the  General  would  burst 
into  a  storm  of  rage  at  her  persistence.  She  had  ceased 
to  give  him  any  bitter  answers,  only  smiling  quietly  and 
maintaining  an  ominous  silence. 

He  had  a  new  cause  now  of  dislike  for  the  man  of  her 
choice.  Gaston  had  become  a  man  of  acknowledged 
p^wer  in  politics  and  was  the  leader  of  a  group  of  radical 
young  men  who  demanded  the  complete  reorganisation  of 
the  Democratic  party,  the  shelving  of  the  old  timers, 
among  whom  he  was  numbered,  and  the  announcement 
of  a  radical  programme  upon  the  Negro  issue. 

Radicalism  of  any  sort  he  had  always  hated.  Now, 
as  advanced  by  this  young  upstart,  it  was  doubly  odious. 
The  General  had  never  given  much  time  to  his  political 
duties,  but  his  name  was  a  power,  and  he  gave  regularly 

404 


The  New  America  405 

to  the  campaign  committee  the  largest  cash  contribution 
they  received. 

He  tried  in  a  clumsy  way  to  put  Gaston  off  the  State 
Executive  Committee,  but  failed.  He  saw  Gaston  quietly 
laughing  at  him.  Then  he  opened  his  pocket  book  and 
worked  up  a  machine.  It  was  a  formidable  power,  and 
Gaston  feared  its  influence  in  the  coming  convention. 

While  this  fight  was  in  progress,  and  Sallie  was  in 
Europe,  the  destruction  of  the  Maine  in  Havana  harbour 
stilled  the  world  into  silence  with  the  echo  of  its  sullen 
roar.  There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  the  nation  lifted 
its  great  silk  battle  flags  from  the  Capitol  at  Washington, 
and  called  for  volunteers  to  wipe  the  empire  of  Spain 
from  the  map  of  the  Western  world. 

The  war  lasted  but  a  hundred  days,  but  in  those  hun- 
dred days  was  packed  the  harvest  of  centuries. 

War  is  always  the  crisis  that  flashes  the  search  light 
into  the  souls  of  men  and  nations,  revealing  their  un- 
known strength  and  weakness,  and  the  changes  that  have 
been  silently  wrought  in  the  years  of  peace. 

In  these  hundred  days,  statesmen  who  were  giants  sud- 
denly shrivelled  into  pigmies  and  disappeared  from  the 
nation's  life.  Young  men  whose  names  were  unknown 
became  leaders  of  the  republic  and  won  immortal  fame. 

We  were  afraid  that  our  nation  still  lacked  unity.  The 
world  said  we  were  a  mob  of  money-grubbers,  and  had 
lost  our  grasp  of  principle.  The  President  called  for 
125,000  men  to  die  for  their  flag,  and  next  morning 
800,000  were  struggling  for  place  in  the  line. 

We  feared  that  religion  might  threaten  the  future  with 
its  bitter  feud  between  the  Roman  Catholic  and  Protest- 
ant in  a  great  crisis.  We  saw  our  Catholic  regiments 
march  forth  to  that  war  with  screaming  fife  and  throb- 
bing drum  and  the  flag  of  our  country  above  them,  going 
forth  to  fight  an  army  that  -had  been  blessed  by  the  Pope 


406  The  Leopard's  Spots 

of  Rome.  The  flag  had  become  the  common  symbol  of 
eternal  justice,  and  the  nation  the  organ  through  which 
all  creeds  and  cults  sought  for  righteousness. 

We  feared  the  gulf  between  the  rich  and  the  poor  had 
become  impassable,  and  we  saw  the  millionaire's  son  take 
his  place  in  the  ranks  with  the  workingman.  The  first 
soldier  wearing  our  uniform  who  fell  before  Santiago 
with  a  Spanish  bullet  in  his  breast,  was  an  only  son  from  a 
palatial  home  in  New  York,  and  by  his  side  lay  a  cowboy 
from  the  West  and  a  plowboy  from  the  South.  Once 
more  we  showed  the  world  that  classes  and  clothes  are 
but  thin  disguises  that  hide  the  eternal  childhood  of  the 
soul. 

Sectionalism  and  disunity  had  been  the  most  terrible 
realities  in  our  national  history.  Our  fathers  had  a  poet 
leader  whose  soul  dreamed  a  beautiful  dream  called 
E  Pluribus  Unum.  But  it  had  remained  a  dream.  New 
England  had  threatened  secession  years  before  South 
Carolina  in  blind  rage  led  the  way.  The  Union  was  saved 
by  a  sacrifice  of  blood  that  appalled  the  world.  And  still 
millions  feared  the  South  might  be  false  to  her  plighted 
honour  at  Appomattox.  The  ghost  of  Secession  made  and 
unmade  the  men  and  measures  of  a  generation. 

Then  came  the  trumpet  call  that  put  the  South  to  the 
test  of  fire  and  blood.  The  world  waked  next  morning 
to  find  for  the  first  time  in  our  history  the  dream  of  union 
a  living  fact.  There  was  no  North,  no  South, — but  from 
the  James  to  the  Ric  Grande  the  children  of  the  Confed- 
eracy rushed  with  eager  flushed  faces  to  defend  the  flag 
their  fathers  had  once  fought. 

And  God  reserved  in  this  hour  for  the  South,  land  of 
ashes  and  tombs  and  tears,  the  pain  and  the  glory  of  the 
first  offering  of  life  on  the  altar  of  the  new  nation.  Our 
first  and  only  officer  who  fell  dead  on  the  deck  of  a  war- 
ship, with  the  flag  above  him,  was  Worth  Bagley,  of 


The  New  America  407 

North  Carolina,  the  son  of  a  Confederate  soldier.  The 
gallant  youngster  who  stood  on  the  bridge  of  the  Hem- 
mac,  and  between  two  towering  mountains  of  flaming 
cannon,  in  the  darkness  of  night  blew  up  his  ship  and 
set  a  new  standard  of  Anglo-Saxon  daring,  was  the  son 
of  a  Confederate  soldier  of  North  Carolina. 

The  town  of  Hambright  furnished  a  whole  company 
of  eighty-six  men,  a  Captain,  three  Lieutenants,  and  a 
Major,  who  saw  service  in  the  war. 

When  they  were  drawn  up  in  the  court  house  square 
under  the  old  oak,  the  Preacher  stood  before  them  and 
called  the  roll  from  four  browned  parchments.  They 
were  Campbell  county  Confederate  rosters.  Every  one  of 
the  eighty-six  men  was  a  child  of  the  Confederacy.  And 
the  immortal  company  F,  that  was  wiped  out  of  existence 
at  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  furnished  more  than  half 
these  children. 

"  Ah,  boys,  blood  will  tell !  "  cried  the  Preacher,  shak- 
ing hands  with  each  man  as  they  left. 

A  single  round  from  the  guns,  and  it  was  over.  The 
yellow  flag  of  Spain,  lit  with  the  sunset  splendour  of  a 
world  empire,  faded  from  the  sky  of  the  West. 

A  new  naval  power  had  arisen  to  disturb  the  dreams  of 
statesmen.  The  Oregon,  that  fierce  leviathan  of  ham- 
mered steel,  had  made  her  mark  upon  the  globe.  In  a 
long  black  trail  of  smoke  and  ribbon  of  foam,  she  had 
circled  the  earth  without  a  pause  for  breath.  The 
thunder  of  her  lips  of  steel  over  the  shattered  hulks  of  a 
European  navy  proclaimed  the  advent  of  a  giant  democ- 
racy that  struck  terror  to  the  hearts  of  titled  snobs. 

He  who  dreamed  this  monster  of  steel,  felt  her  heart 
beat,  saw  her  rush  through  foaming  seas  to  victory,  be- 
fore the  pick  of  a  miner  had  struck  the  ore  for  her  ribs 
from  a  mountain  side,  was  a  child  of  the  Confederacy — 
that  Confederacy  whose  desperate  genius  had  sent  the 


408  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Alabama  spinning  round  the  globe  in  a  whirlwind  of 
fire. 

America  united  at  last  and  invincible,  waked  to  the 
consciousness  of  her  resistless  power» 

And,  most  marvellous  of  all,  this  hundred  days  of  war 
had  re-united  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  This  sudden  union 
of  the  English  speaking  people  in  friendly  alliance  dis- 
turbed the  equilibrium  of  the  world,  and  confirmed  the 
Anglo-Saxon  in  his  title  to  the  primacy  of  racial  sway. 


CHAPTER  X 
ANOTHER  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE 

ALMOST  every  problem  of  national  life  had  been 
illumined  and  made  more  hopeful  by  the  search- 
light of  war  save  one — the  irrepressible  conflict 
between  the  African  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  in  the  develop- 
ment of  our  civilisation.     The  glare  of  war  only  made 
the  blackness  of  this  question  the  more  apparent. 

While  the  well-drilled  negro  regulars,  led  by  white 
officers  acquitted  themselves  with  honour  at  Santiago,  the 
negro  volunteers  were  the  source  of  riot  and  disorder 
wherever  they  appeared.  From  the  first,  it  was  seen  by 
thoughtful  men  that  the  Negro  was  an  impossibility  in 
the  newborn  unity  of  national  life.  When  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  race  was  united  into  one  homogeneous  mass  in 
the  fire  of  this  crisis,  the  Negro  ceased  that  moment  to 
be  a  ward  of  the  nation. 

A  negro  regiment  had  been  in  camp  at  Independence 
during  the  war  and  was  still  there  awaiting  orders  to  be 
mustered  out.  Its  presence  had  inflamed  the  passions 
of  both  races  to  the  danger  point  of  riot  again  and  again. 
The  negro  who  was  editing  their  paper  at  Independence 
had  gone  to  the  length  of  the  utmost  license  in  seeking 
to  influence  race  antagonism. 

When  the  regiment  of  which  the  Hambright  company 
was  a  member  was  mustered  out  at  Independence,  Gas- 
ton  was  invited  to  deliver  the  address  of  welcome  home 
to  the  soldiers,  and  a  crowd  of  five  thousand  people  were 
present,  one-half  of  whom  were  negroes. 

409 


410  The  Leopard's  Spots 

While  Gaston  was  speaking  in  the  square,  a  negrc 
trooper  passing  along  the  street  refused  to  give  an  inch 
of  the  sidewalk  to  a  young  lady  and  her  escort,  who  met 
him.  He  ran  into  the  girl,  jostling  her  roughly,  and  the 
young  white  man  knocked  him  down  instantly  and 
beat  him  to  death.  The  wildest  passions  of  the  negro 
regiment  were  roused.  McLeod  was  among  them  that 
day  seeking  to  increase  his  popularity  and  influence  in  the 
coming  election,  and  he  at  once  denounced  Gaston  as 
the  cause  of  the  assault,  and  urged  the  leaders  in  secret  to 
retaliate  by  putting  a  bullet  through  his  heart. 

The  white  regiment  had  been  mustered  out,  and  their 
guns  in  most  cases  had  been  retained  by  the  men.  The 
negro  troops  were  to  be  mustered  out  the  next  day. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  Gaston  had  received  information 
that  a  plot  was  on  foot  to  kill  him  that  night,  when  a 
negro  mob  would  batter  down  his  door  on  the  pretense 
of  searching  for  the  man  who  had  assaulted  the  trooper. 
The  Colonel  of  the  regiment  just  disbanded  heard  it,  and 
that  night  his  men  bivouacked  in  the  yard  of  the  hotel 
and  slept  on  their  guns. 

A  little  after  twelve  o'clock,  a  mob  of  five  hundred 
negroes  attempted  to  force  their  way  into  the  hotel.  They 
met  a  regiment  of  bayonets,  broke,  and  fled  in  wild 
confusion. 

This  event  was  the  last  straw  that  broke  the  camel's 
back.  In  the  morning  paper  a  blazing  notice  in  display 
capitals  covered  the  first  page,  calling  a  mass  meeting 
of  white  citizens  at  noon  in  Independence  Hall. 

The  little  city  of  Independence  was  one  of  the  oldest 
in  the  nation.  It  boasted  the  first  declaration  of  inde- 
pendence from  Great  Britain  antedating  a  year  the  Phila- 
delphia document.  The  people  had  never  rested  tamely 
under  tyranny  nor  accepted  insult. 

The  McLeod  Negro-Farmer  Legislature  had  remodelled 


Another  Declaration  of  Independence     411 

the  ancient  charter  of  the  city,  and  under  the  new  instru- 
ment a  combination  of  negroes  and  criminal  whites  had 
taken  possession  of  every  office. 

One  half  of  these  office  holders  were  incompetent  and 
insolent  negroes.  The  Chief  of  Police  was  an  ignoramus 
in  league  with  criminals,  and  their  Mayor,  a  white  dema- 
gogue elected  by  pandering  to  the  lowest  passions  of 
a  negro  constituency. 

Burglary  and  highway  robbery  were  almost  daily  oc- 
currences. The  two  largest  stores  in  the  city  and  four 
residences  had  been  burned  within  a  month.  Appeal  to 
the  police  became  a  farce,  and  it  was  necessary  to  hire  and 
arm  a  force  of  private  guards  to  patrol  the  city  at  night. 
When  arrests  were  made,  the  servile  authorities  promptly 
released  the  criminals.  Negro  insolence  reached  a  height 
that  made  it  impossible  for  ladies  to  walk  the  streets 
without  an  armed  escort,  and  white  children  were  way- 
laid and  beaten  on  their  way  to  the  public  schools. 

The  incendiary  organ  of  the  negroes,  a  newspaper  that 
had  been  noted  for  its  virulent  spirit  of  race  hatred,  had 
published  an  editorial  defaming  the  virtue  of  the  white 
women  of  the  community. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  quaint  old  hall,  built  in  Revolu- 
tionary days  to  seat  five  hundred  people,  was  packed  with 
a  crowd  of  eight  hundred  stern-visaged  men  standing  so 
thick  it  was  impossible  to  pass  through  them  and  thou- 
sands were  massed  outside  around  the  building. 

Gaston,  whose  ancestors  had  been  leaders  in  the  great 
Revolution,  was  called  to  the  chair.  The  speech-making 
was  brief,  fiery,  and  to  the  point. 

Within  one  hour  they  unanimously  adopted  this  resolu- 
tion: 

"  Resolved,  that  we  issue  a  second  Declaration 
of  Independence  from  the  infamy  of  corrupt 
and  degraded  government.  The  day  of  Negro 


412  The  Leopard's  Spots 

domination  over  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  shall 
close,  now,  once  and  forever.  The  government 
of  North  Carolina  was  established  by  a  race  of 
pioneer  white  freemen  for  white  men  and  it 
shall  remain  in  the  hands  of  freemen. 

We  demand  the  overthrow  of  the  criminal 
and  semi-barbarian  regime  under  which  we  now 
live,  and  to  this  end  serve  notice  on  the  present 
Mayor  of  this  city,  its  Chief  of  Police,  and  the 
six  negro  aldermen  and  their  low  white  asso- 
ciates that  their  resignations  are  expected  by 
nine  o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  We  demand 
that  the  negro  anarchist  who  edits  a  paper  in 
this  city  shall  close  his  office,  remove  its  fixtures 
'and  leave  this  county  within  twenty- four  hours." 

A  committee  of  twenty-five,  with  Gaston  as  its  Chair- 
man, was  appointed  to  enforce  these  resolutions. 

By  four  o'clock  an  army  of  two  thousand  white 
men  was  organised,  and  placed  under  the  command  of  the 
Rev.  Duncan  McDonald,  pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church  of  the  city,  who  had  been  a  brave  young  officer 
in  the  Confederate  army.  Every  minister  in  the  county 
was  enrolled  in  this  guard  and  carried  a  musket  on  picket 
duty,  or  in  a  reserve  camp  that  night. 

At  six  o'clock,  Gaston  summoned  thirty-five  of  the 
more  prominent  negroes  of  the  county  including  two  of 
the  professors  in  Miss  Susan  Walker's  college,  to  meet 
the  Committee  of  Twenty-Five  and  receive  its  ultimatum, 
Stern  and  hard  of  face  sat  the  twenty-five  chosen  repre- 
sentatives of  that  world-conquering  race  of  men  at  one 
end  of  the  room,  while  at  the  other  end  sat  the  thirty- 
five  negroes  anxious  and  fearful,  realising  that  their  day 
of  dominion  had  ended. 

Gaston  rose  and  handed  them  a  copy  of  the  resolutions, 


Another  Declaration  of  Independence     413 

"  We  give  you  till  seven-thirty  to-morrow  morning  as 
the  leaders  of  your  race  to  carry  out  these  demands,"  he 
said  gravely. 

"  But  we  have  no  authority,  sir,"  replied  the  negro 
preacher  to  whom  he  handed  the  paper. 

"  Your  authority  is  equal  to  ours — the  authority  of 
elemental  manhood.  If  you  can  not  execute  them  in 
peace,  we  will  do  it  by  force." 

"  We  must  decline  such  responsibility  unless  " — the 
negro  started  to  argue  the  question. 

"  The  meeting  stands  adjourned !  "  quietly  announced 
Gaston,  taking  up  his  hat  and  leaving  the  room  followed 
by  his  Committee. 

At  seven-thirty  next  morning  no  answer  had  been  re- 
ceived. Gaston  called  for  seventy-five  volunteers  to  exe- 
cute the  decrees. 

Within  thirty  minutes,  five  hundred  men  swung  into 
line  at  eight  o'clock,  and  marched  four  abreast  to  the 
office  of  the  negro  paper.  It  was  promptly  burned  to  the 
ground,  its  editor  paid  its  cash  value,  and  with  a  rope 
around  his  neck,  escorted  to  the  depot  and  placed  on  a 
north  bound  train. 

As  Gaston  handed  him  his  ticket  for  Washington  he 
quietly  said  to  him, 

"  I  have  saved  your  life  this  morning.  If  you  value  it, 
never  put  your  foot  on  the  soil  of  this  state  again." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.    I'll  not  return." 

While  this  guard,  under  strict  military  discipline,  was 
executing  this  decree,  a  mob  of  a  thousand  armed  negroes 
concealed  themselves  in  a  hedge-row  and  fired  on  them 
from  ambush,  killing  one  man  and  wounding  six.  Gas- 
ton  formed  his  men  in  line,  returned  the  fire  with  deadly 
effect,  charged  the  mob,  put  them  to  flight,  driving  them 
into  the  woods  outside  the  city  limits,  and  placed  the 
town  under  informal  but  strict  martial  law.  By  ten  o'clock 


414  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  resignation  of  every  city  and  county  officer  was  in  his 
hand,  and  the  Mayor  and  Chief  of  Police  were  at  his 
feet  begging  for  mercy. 

He  posted  a  notice  over  the  county  warning  every 
negro  and  white  associate  that  no  further  insolence  or 
criminality  would  be  tolerated. 

The  county  and  municipal  election  was  but  three  days 
off  and  there  was  but  one  ticket  on  the  field.  When  the 
white  men  elected  were  sworn  in,  the  guards  went  to  the 
woods  and  told  the  terrified  and  half  starving  negroes  they 
could  return  to  their  homes,  a  competent  police  force 
was  organised,  and  the  volunteer  organisation  disbanded. 
Negro  refugees  and  their  associates  once  more  filled 
the  ear  of  the  national  government  with  clamour  for  the 
return  of  the  army  to  the  South  to  uphold  Negro  power, 
but  for  the  first  time  since  1867,  it  fell  on  deaf  ears.  The 
Anglo-Saxon  race  had  been  reunited.  The  Negro  was  no 
longer  the  ward  of  the  Republic.  Henceforth,  he  must 
stand  or  fall  on  his  own  worth  and  pass  under  the  law 
of  the  survival  of  the  fittest. 

This  event  made  a  tremendous  impression  on  the  imag- 
ination of  the  people.  It  increased  the  popularity  and 
power  of  Gaston,  its  intended  victim,- 

The  General  was  more  than  ever  determined  to  destroy 
Gaston's  power  in  the  convention  which  was  to  meet  in 
a  few  weeks.  He  had  his  candidate  for  Governor  well 
groomed  and  he  had  captured  the  largest  number  of 
pledged  delegates.  There  were  three  other  candidates, 
but  none  of  them  apparently  were  backed  by  Gaston „ 
The  General  was  puzzled  at  his  methods,  and  failed  to 
discover  his  programme,  though  he  spent  money  with 
liberality  and  exhausted  every  resource  at  his  command. 

A  strange  thing  had  occurred  that  had  upset  all  calcu- 
lations. Beginning  at  Independence  a  race  fire  had 
broken  into  resistless  fury  and  was  sweeping  along  the 


Another  Declaration  of  Independence     415 

line  of  all  the  counties  on  the  South  Carolina  border  and 
over  the  entire  state  with  incredible  rapidity.  Every- 
where, the  white  men  were  arming  themselves  and  parad- 
ing the  streets  and  public  roads  in  cavalry  order  dressed 
in  scarlet  shirts.  This  Red  Shirt  movement  was  a  spon- 
taneous combustion  of  inflammable  racial  power  that  had 
been  accumulating  for  a  generation. 

The  Democratic  Executive  Committee  was  called  to- 
gether in  haste  and  made  the  most  frantic  efforts  to  stop 
it.  But  there  was  no  head  to  it.  It  had  no  organisation 
except  a  local  one,  and  it  spread  by  a  spark  flying  from 
one  county  to  another. 

McLeod  laughed  at  the  address  of  the  Democratic 
Committee  and  swore  Gaston  was  the  organiser  of  the 
movement.  He  determined  to  nip  it  in  the  bud  by 
putting  Gaston  under  a  cloud  that  would  destroy  his 
influence.  He  did  not  dare  to  attack  him  for  his  part 
in  the  Revolution  at  Independence.  He  preferred  to  be- 
little that  affair  as  a  local  disturbance. 

But  at  an  election  for  Congressman  to  fill  a  vacancy, 
the  Democratic  candidate  had  won  by  a  narrow  margin 
in  a  campaign  of  great  bitterness  under  Gaston's  leader- 
ship. 

Charges  of  fraud  were  freely  made  on  both  sides.  Mc- 
Leod determined  to  utilise  these  charges,  and  by  pro- 
ducing perjured  witnesses  before  a  packed  court,  place 
Gaston  in  jail  without  bail  until  the  convention  had  met. 

He  had  every  advantage  in  such  a  conspiracy.  The 
United  States  judge  whom  he  intended  to  utilise  was  a 
creature  of  his  own  making,  a  trickster  whose  confirma- 
tion had  been  twice  defeated  in  the  Senate  by  the  mem- 
bers of  his  own  party  on  his  shady  record.  But  he  had 
won  the  place  at  last  by  hook  and  crook,  and  McLeod 
owned  him  body  and  soul. 

Accordingly  Gaston  was  arrested  with  a  warrant  Me- 


416  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Leod  had  obtained  from  his  judge,  arraigned  before  him 
and  committed  without  bail.  He  was  charged  with  a 
felony  under  the  election  laws,  taken  to  Asheville  and 
placed  in  jail. 

The  audacity  of  this  arrest  and  the  vehemence  with 
which  McLeod  pressed  his  charges  created  a  profound 
sensation  in  the  state.  It  was  rumoured  that  the  graver 
charge  of  murder  lay  back  of  the  charge  of  felony  and 
would  be  pressed  in  due  tirrie.  A  murder  had  been  com- 
mitted in  the  district  during  the  exciting  campaign  and 
no  clue  had  ever  been  found  to  its  perpetrator.  McLeod 
knew  he  had  no  evidence  connecting  Gaston  with  this 
event,  but  he  knew  that  he  had  henchmen  who  would 
swear  to  any  thing  he  told  them  and  stick  to  it 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  HEART  OF  A  WOMAN 

A  WEEK  after  Gaston's  imprisonment  Sallie  Worth 
arrived  in  New  York  from  her  last  trip  abroad. 
She  had  cut  her  trip  short  and  cabled  her  father 
of  her  return. 

She  was  in  an  agony  of  suspense  and  uncertainty  about 
her  lover.  Gaston's  letters  had  failed  to  reach  her  for  a 
month  by  reason  of  the  war  which  had  demoralised  the 
mail  service.  Her  own  letters  had  failed  to  reach  Gaston 
for  a  similar  reason. 

The  General  hastened  to  New  York  to  meet  his  wife 
and  daughter  and  persuade  Sallie  to  remain  in  the  North 
until  December.  He  was  hopeful  now  that  her  long  ab- 
sence and  Gaston's  absorption  in  politics,  his  bitter  op- 
position to  him  personally,  and  the  cloud  under  which  he 
rested  in  prison, ^  would  be  the  final  forces  that  would 
give  him  the  victory  in  the  long  conflict  he  had  waged 
for  the  mastery  of  his  daughter's  heart. 

Before  informing  Sallie  of  the  stirring  events  at  Inde- 
pendence and  the  part  Gaston  had  taken  in  them,  or  allow- 
ing her  to  learn  of  his  imprisonment,  the  General  sought 
to  find  the  exact  state  of  her  mind. 

"  I  trust,  Sallie,"  he  began,  "  you  are  recovering  from 
your  infatuation  for  this  man.  You  know  how  dearly  I 
love  you.  I  have  never  taken  a  step  in  life  since  I  looked 
into  your  baby  face  that  wasn't  for  you  and  your  happi- 


ness." 


41* 


4i  8  The  Leopard's  Spots 

She  only  looked  at  him  wistfully  and  her  eyes  seemed 
to  be  dreaming. 

"  I  want  you  to  have  some  pride.  Gaston  has  attempted 
to  kick  me  out  of  the  councils  of  the  party,  and  become 
the  dictator  of  the  state.  His  course  is  one  of  violence 
and  radicalism.  I  regard  him  as  a  dangerous  man,  and 
I  want  you  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him." 

She  was  gravely  silent. 

"  Do  you  believe  he  has  been  faithfully  dreaming  of 
you  in  your  absence  ?  "  asked  the  General. 

"Yes,  Idol" 

"  Then  let  me  disabuse  your  mind.  It  is  not  the  way 
of  strong  men.  He  is  absolutely  absorbed  in  a  desperate 
political  struggle  in  which  his  personal  ambitions  are 
first.  I  have  seen  him  paying  the  most  devoted  attentions 
to  the  daughter  of  our  rival  down  east,  whose  influence 
he  wants,  and  it  is  rumoured  among  his  friends  that  he 
has  proposed  to  her." 

"  Who  told  you  that  ?  "  she  asked  impetuously. 

"  I  had  it  first  from  Allan,  but  I've  heard  it  since  from 
others/' 

"  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it,"  she  declared. 

"  That's  because  you're  a  woman  and  hold  such  silly 
ideals.  I  tell  you,  he  wants  you  only  because  he  knows 
you  are  rich,  and  he  wishes  to  brow-beat  me.  Such  a 
man  will  try  to  whip  you  before  you  have  been  his  wife 
five  years.  I  know  that  kind  of  man.  Why  can't  you 
trust  my  judgment?" 

"  I  had  rather  trust  my  heart's  intuitions,  Papa,  I  can 
not  be  deceived  in  such  a  question." 

"  Well,  you  are  being  deceived.  He  is  anything  but  a 
languishing  lover.  At  present  he  is  a  political  tiger  at 
bay.  Unless  you  hold  him  to  you  by  some  pledge  he  has 
given,  he  will  forget  you,  and  marry  another  in  two  years. 
I  am  a  man  and  I  know  men.  I  thought  I  was  desperately 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman  419 

in  love  twice  before  I  met  your  mother.  I  got  over  both 
attacks  without  a  scratch,  fell  in  love  with  her,  married 
and  have  lived  happily  ever  since.  You  have  overesti- 
mated your  own  importance  to  him  and  your  influence 
over  him/' 

A  great  fear  awed  her  into  silence.  For  the  first  time 
in  all  her  struggle  with  her  father  the  sense  suddenly 
came  into  her  heart  of  her  dependence  on  Gaston's 
love  for  the  very  desire  to  live,  and  for  the  first 
time  she  realised  the  possibility  of  losing  him.  What 
if  he  should  press  his  great  ambitions  to  successful  issue 
while  she  stood  irresolute  and  tortured  him  with  her  inde- 
cision? If  he  could  win  the  world's  applause  without 
her,  might  he  not,  when  successful,  cease  to  need  her? 
Her  breast  heaved  with  the  tumult  of  uncertainty.  What 
if  another  woman  saw  and  loved  him,  and  drew  near  to 
him  in  his  hours  of  soul  loneliness  and  struggle,  and  he 
had  learned  to  see  her  face  with  joy!  The  conviction 
came  crushing  upon  her  that  she  had  not  responded 
bravely  to  this  powerful  man's  singular  devotion  into 
which  he  had  poured  without  reserve  his  deepest  passion. 
Had  he  weighed  her  and  found  her  wanting  in  some  dark 
hour  in  her  absence?  Her  heart  was  in  her  throat  at 
the  thought! 

The  General  watched  her  keenly  for  several  moments, 
and  thought  at  last  he  had  broken  the  spell.  He  believed 
he  could  now  tell  her  of  the  cloud  that  hung  over  Gaston. 

"  I  said,  Sallie,  that  I  believed  Gaston  a  dangerous 
man.  I  did  not  speak  lightly.  We  have  had  terrible  riots 
in  Independence  while  you  were  absent  in  which  Gaston 
was  the  leader  of  an  armed  revolution  which  overturned 
the  city  and  county  government.  Two  thousand  men 
were  under  arms  for  a  week  and  several  were  killed  and 
wounded  on  both  sides.  The  results  were  good  as  a 
whole,  I  confess.  We  have  a  decent  government  arid  we 


420  The  Leopard's  Spots 

have  security  of  property  and  life,  but  such  methods  will 
lead  to  civil  war." 

Her  face  grew  tense,  and  she  looked  at  her  father  with 
breathless  interest  during  this  recital. 

"  Was  he  in  danger  in  those  riots  ?  "  she  slowly  asked. 

"  Yes,  and  I  expect  him  to  be  killed  at  an  early  day 
if  he  continues  his  present  methods.  A  mob  of  five  hun- 
dred negroes  attempted  to  kill  him.  This  was  one  of  the 
causes  that  led  to  the  Revolution." 

She  was  on  her  feet  now  pale  and  trembling  with  ex- 
citement. 

"Where  is  he?"  she  gasped. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  it's  useless  to  get  excited.  The  trouble 
is  all  over  and  a  new  Mayor  and  police  force  are  in  charge 
of  the  city,  But  he  is  resting  under  a  serious  cloud  at 
present.  He  is  held  in  jail  at  Asheville  on  a  charge  of 
felony,  and  a  charge  of  murder  is  being  pressed." 

"  In  jail !  in  jail !  "  she  cried  incredulously  while  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Yes,  and  Allan  believes  these  ugly  charges  will  be 
proved  in  the  United  States  court,  and  he  will  be  con- 
victed." 

She  did  not  seem  to  hear  the  last  sentence. 

"In  jail!"  she  repeated,  "my  lover,  to  whom  I  have 
given  my  life,  and  you,  my  father,  while  I  was  three  thou- 
sand miles  away  stood  by  and  did  not  lift  a  hand  to  help 
him?" 

"  Has  he  not  been  my  bitterest  enemy,  seeking  to  in- 
sult me !  "  thundered  the  General. 

"  No,  he  never  insulted  you,  or  spoke  one  unkind  word 
about  you  in  his  life.  Oh !  this  is  shameful !  God  for- 
give me  that  I  was  not  here !  "  Tears  were  streaming 
down  her  face. 

"  You  hold  me  responsible  for  the  crazy  young  scamp's 
career  ?  "  cried  the  General  indignantly. 


The  Heart  of  a  Woman  421 

"  Not  another  word  to  me !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  You 
shall  not  abuse  him  in  my  presence." 

The  General  was  afraid  of  her  when  she  used  the  tone 
of  voice  in  which  she  uttered  that  sentence.  He  had 
heard  it  but  once  before,  and  that  was  when  she  told  him 
she  was  a  free  woman  twenty-one  years  old,  and  he  had 
broken  down.  He  looked  at  her  now,  fearing  to  speak. 
At  length  he  said, 

"  I  have  engaged  a  suite  of  rooms  for  you  here  at  the 
Waldorf-Astoria,  my  dear,  for  the  winter.  I  hope  you 
will  enjoy  the  season.  Let  us  change  this  painful  sub- 
ject." ' 

"  I  do  not  want  the  rooms,"  she  firmly  replied,  "  I  am 
going  to  Asheville  on  the  first  train." 

The  General  stormed  and  raged  for  an  hour,  but  she 
made  no  reply.  Her  mother  was  suffering  from  the  ef- 
fects of  the  voyage  and  took  no  part  in  this  storm. 

"  But  your  mother  will  not  be  able  to  accompany  you. 
Surely  you  will  not  disgrace  me  by  visiting  that  man  in 
jail!"  " 

"  I  will  And  when  he  is  released  I  will  return.  I  will 
visit  Stella  Holt.  I  shall  have  ample  protection." 

The  General  was  afraid  to  oppose  her  in  this  danger- 
ous mood,  and  begged  her  mother  to  try  to  prevent  her 
going.  Sallie  sent  Gaston  a  telegram  that  she  was  com- 
ing. 

In  obedience  to  the  General's  request  her  mother  called 
her  into  her  room  that  night  and  they  had  a  long  talk 
and  cry  in  each  other's  arms. 

Mrs.  Worth  did  not  try  very  hard  to  persuade  her 
not  to  go.  Down  in  her  own  woman's  soul  she  knew 
what  she  would  do  under  similar  conditions,  and  she 
was  too  honest  with  her  child  tov  try  to  deceive  her.  She 
only  made  love  to  her  mother- fashion. 

"  Oh !  Mama,"  cried  Sallie,  burying  her  face  beside  her 


422  The  Leopard's  Spots 

mother  as  she  lay  in  bed.  "  I  am  at  a  great  soul  crisis. 
I  don't  know  what  to  do.  1  feel  lonely,  helpless  and 
heart-sick.  You  are  a  woman.  Put  your  dear  arms 
about  me  and  help  me  to  know  the  truth  and  my  duty.  I 
want  to  ask  you  a  question." 

"What  is  it,  darling?  I'll  answer  it,  if  I  can/'  she 
replied  stroking  her  dark  hair  tenderly. 

"  Do  you  believe  these  stories  about  Charlie's  char- 
acter?" 

"  Not  one  word  of  them !  "  she  promptly  answered. 

An  impulsive  kiss  and  a  sob! 

"Dear  Mother!"  she  said  in  a  low  tearful  voice. 
"  And  now  one  more.  Papa  has  been  dinning  into  my 
ears  his  own  fickleness  in  love  when  young  and  the 
fact  that  he  knows  in  a  long  life  that  love  is  of  little 
importance  in  a  man's  existence.  He  says  that  I  can  for- 
get and  love  again  with  equal  intensity  and  better  judg- 
ment. Can  one  treat  thus  lightly  the  soul's  deepest  in- 
stincts and  still  find  life  rich  and  worthy  of  effort  ?  " 

Her  voice  broke  and  she  continued  slowly  and  trem- 
blingly, as  she  held  one  of  her  mother's  hands  tightly, 

"  Now,  Mama  dear,  heart  to  heart,  tell  me  as  you  would 
talk  in  your  inmost  soul  to  God,  do  you  believe  this  is 
true?  You  have  sounded  life's  deep  meaning  Is  this 
all  you  know  of  life  ?  You  love  me.  Tell  me  truly  ?  " 

"  No,  darling,  a  woman  can  not  deny  this  deep  yearn- 
ing of  her  soul  and  live.  I  would  tear  my  tongue  out 
sooner  than  deceive  you  in  such  an  hour." 

"  Sweet  Mother !  "  she  softly  murmured  again  as  she 
kissed  her  good  night 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  SPLENDOUR  OF  SHAMELESS  LOVE 

WHEN  Gaston  received  her  telegram  in  jail  H$ 
was  seated  by  a  window  looking  out  through 
the  bars  on  Mt.  Pisgah's  distant  peak  looming 
in  grandeur  amid  a  sea  of  smaller  blue  mountain  waves. 
He  read  the  message  and  his  soul  was  filled  with  a  great 
peace. 

"  At  last !  at  last !  These  prison  bars,  they  are  good ! 
I  could  kiss  them.  I  can  never  be  grateful  enough  to 
my  enemies ! " 

He  had  taken  his  prison  as  a  joke  from  the  first,  sneer- 
ing at  the  iudge  who  had  committed  him.  He  knew  that 
every  day  he  stayed  in  that  jail  he  was  becoming  more 
and  more  the  master  of  the  people.  If  McLeod  had  tried 
he  could  not  have  played  into  his  hands  with  more  fatal 
certainty.  Five  hundred  citizens  of  Independence  had 
wired  him  their  congratulations  and  offered  him  any  as- 
sistance he  desired,  from  unlimited  money  for  defence  to 
a  delegation  to  tear  the  jail  down. 

He  declined  any  assistance.  He  knew  the  storm 
would  break  over  their  heads  soon  enough,  and  they 
would  be  delighted  to  get  rid  of  him.  In  the  mean- 
time he  gave  himself  up  to  his  thoughts  about  the  woman 
he  loved,  and  wondered  what  change  had  suddenly  come 
over  her  to  send  him  that  message.  He  felt  sure  the  great 
crisis  in  their  life  had  come.  What  would  it  be  ?  A  sor- 
rowful surrender  on  her  part  to  her  father's  iron  will 

423 


424  The  Leopard's  Spots 

and  a  tearful  good-bye  forever,  or  the  full  surrender  of 
her  woman's  soul  and  body  to  the  dominion  of  his  love? 

He  was  glad  the  hour  had  struck  that  should  decide. 
He  trembled  at  the  import  of  her  answer  but  he  was 
ready  to  receive  it. 

A  carriage  rolled  into  the  jail  enclosure  and  two  young 
ladies  alighted.  One  of  them  stopped  in  the  sitting  room 
for  visitors,  and  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a  man's  heavy 
feet  on  the  stairs  and  after  it  the  tread  of  a  woman  like 
a  soft  echo. 

The  key  grated  in  the  lock,  the  door  opened.  She 
looked  into  his  eyes  for  just  an  instant  of  searching 
soul  revelation,  saw  the  yearning  and  the  grateful  tears, 
and  with  a  glad  cry  sprang  into  his  arms. 

"  You  do  love  me !  "  she  passionately  cried. 

"  Love  you  ?  I  drew  you  back  across  the  sea  with 
my  love.  I  knew  you  would  come.  I  willed  it  with  a 
power  you  couldn't  resist." 

"  I  never  got  your  letters,  and  I  was  hungry  to  see 
you,"  she  whispered. 

"  And  I  never  got  yours,  and  drew  you  back  by  the 
power  of  a  great  heart  purpose." 

"  Forgive  me,  for  being  away  from  you  when  you  were 
in  danger." 

"  I  was  glad  you  were  safe.  Don't  let  this  jail  alarm 
you.  I'll  be  out  too  soon  for  my  good  I'm  afraid." 

"  No  other  woman  has  come  into  your  heart  to  cheer  it 
even  with  her  friendship  since  I've  been  away,  has  she?  " 

"  What  a  silly  question.  I've  never  looked  at  any  other 
woman  since  the  day  I  first  saw  you !  " 

"  Tell  me  you  love  me  again !  " 

"  I — love — you,  unto  the  uttermost,  in  life,  in  death, 
forever !  "  he  whispered  tenderly. 

She  sighed  and  smiled.  "  The  sweetest  music  the  ear 
of  a  woman  ever  heard !  "  she  half  laughed,  half  cried. 


The  Splendour  of  Shameless  Love        425 

"  Now,  my  dear,  you  are  a  full-grown  woman  in  the 
beauty  of  a  perfect  womanhood.  For  five  years  and  more, 
I  have  waited  and  suffered.  My  life  is  an  open  book 
before  you.  When  are  you  going  to  end  this  suspense? 
You  must  decide  now  whether  your  father's  will  shall 
rule  your  life  or  my  love  ?  " 

"  Must  I  decide  to-day  ?  "  she  asked  tremblingly. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  It  is  not  fair  to  torture  me 
longer." 

"  Then  I  give  up !  "  she  tearfully  exclaimed.  "  God 
forgive  me  if  I  am  doing  wrong!  I  can  not  resist  you 
longer.  I  do  not  desire  to, — I  will  not !  I  am  all  yours, 
forever — soul,  body,  will,  honour,  life — all!  I  can  not 
live  without  you.  I  love  you.  /  love  you! — Kiss  me! — 
again — ah,  your  lips  are  sweeter  than  honey !  Am  I  bold 
to  say  it  ?  I  do  not  care,  I  am  yours .  Your  arms  are 
the  bonds  of  my  slavery  and  they  are  sweet ! " 

Gas  ton  was  trembling  with  the  joy  that  flooded  his 
being  with  these  the  first  words  of  perfect  faith  and 
submissive  love  that  had  come  from  her  lips.  And  he 
winced  at  the  memory  now  of  those  hours  of  dissipation 
when  he  had  doubted  her.  He  tried  to  confess  it  and 
receive  her  absolution. 

"  My  dear,  my  joy  is  too  great.  It  is  pain,  as  well 
as  joy.  In  the  dark  days  of  our  first  year  of  separation 
I  thought  once  you  had  forgotten  me.  I  went  away  into 
two  weeks  of  debauchery.  Your  perfect  love  crushes  me 
with  its  beauty  and  purity.  I  must  confess  this  wrong 
to  you.  I  must  not  deceive  you  in  the  smallest  thing  in 
this  hour." 

She  placed  her  hand  over  his  lips,  "  I  will  not  hear  it. 
I  ought  to  have  been  braver  and  fought  for  my  rights 
and  yours.  I  will  not  hear  one  word  of  humiliation  from 
you.  I  love  you.  You  are  my  king.  I  love  you,  good 
or  bad.  I  would  love  you  if  you  were  a  murderer  on  the 


426  The  Leopard's  Spots 

gallows.  I  can  not  help  it.  I  do  not  wish  to  help  it.  I 
will  follow  you  to  the  bottomless  pit  or  to  the  throne  of 
God  and  say  it  without  fear  to  devil  or  angel .  Kiss  me 
again! — There,  do  not  cry — let  me  see  your  beautiful 
brown  eyes.  Ill  kiss  the  tears  away.  Tears  are  for  my 
eyes  not  yours !  " 

"  Then  you  will  fix  the  day,  dear  ?  "  he  softly  urged. 

"  How  soon  would  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  The  sooner  the  better." 

"  Then  I  fix  to-day,"  she  said  impulsively. 

"What,  here,  in  this  jail?" 

"  Yes,  where  you  are  is  heaven  to  me.  I  haven't  no- 
ticed the  jail,"  she  said  soberly. 

He  looked  at  her  a  moment,  strained  her  to  his  heart 
and  brushed  the  tears  of  joy  from  his  eyes. 

"  My  beautiful  queen !  This  hour  is  worth  every  pain 
and  every  throb  of  anguish  I  have  suffered.  Its  memory 
will  encompass  life  with  a  great  light." 

"  I'll  go  with  Stella,  see  Dr.  Durham  who  is  here  look- 
ing after  your  case,  have  him  get  the  license,  and  we  will 
be  back  in  half  an  hour ! " 

The  Preacher  greeted  her  with  delight.  "  Ah !  Mis", 
Sallie,  if  I  had  known  a  little  thing  like  this  would  have 
brought  you  back,  I  would  have  hired  a  jail  for  him 
long  ago,  and  put  him  in  it." 

"  Doctor,  I  want  you  to  get  the  license  and  marry  us 
now,  will  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Will  I  ?  Just  watch  me.  I'll  have  the  documents 
and  be  ready  for  the  ceremony  in  fifteen  minutes !  "  cried 
the  preacher  as  he  hurried  to  the  office  of  the  Register 
of  Deeds. 

Sallie  ran  up  to  Mrs.  Durham's  room,  told  her,  and 
asked  her  to  be  one  of  the  witnesses. 

"  Of  course,  I  will,  Sallie.  You  are  the  one  girl  in  the 
world  I  have  always  wanted  Charlie  to  marry." 


The  Splendour  of  Shameless  Love       427 

Sallie  slipped  her  arm  around  Mrs.  Durham.  "  You 
don't  think  I  am  doing  wrong  to  disobey  my  parents 
thus,  do  you?  "  she  faltered.  "  I  feel  just  for  a  moment, 
now  that  I  have  decided,  bruised  and  homesick, — I  want 
my  mother.  Let  me  feel  your  arms  about  my  neck  just 
once.  You  are  a  woman.  You  love  me  as  well  as  Charlie, 
tell  me,  am  I  doing  wrong  ?  " 

Mrs.  ODurham  kissed  her.  "  I  do  love  you  child.  It  is 
a  solemn  hour  for  your  soul.  You  alone  can  decide  such 
a  question.  Any  intrusion  of  advice  in  such  a  trial  would 
be  a  sacrilege.  Under  ordinary  conditions  it  would  be  a 
dangerous  thing  for  a  girl  thus  to  leave  her  father's 
roof  and  take  this  step  that  will  decide  forever  her 
destiny.  Marriage  is  something  that  swallows  up  life, 
the  past,  the  present,  the  future.  We  seem  to  have 
never  known  anything  else.  I  can  only  say,  if  I  were 
in  your  place,  knowing  all,  I  would  do  as  you  are 
doing." 

Sallie  impulsively  kissed  her,  bit  her  lips  to  keep  back 
a  tear,  and  held  her  hand. 

"  I  know  your  father  well,"  she  continued.  "  He  is  a 
man  I  greatly  admire.  But  he  is  unreasonable  with  any 
one  who  dares  to  cross  his  will.  You  could  never  get 
his  consent  now  that  his  pride  is  aroused  except  by  forc- 
ing it.  When  it  is  over,  he  will  forgive  you,  and  when 
he  knows  your  lover  as  I  know  him,  he  will  be  as  proud 
of  his  son-in-law  as  a  peacock  of  his  plumage." 

"  Oh,  it  is  so  sweet  to  hear  just  the  advice  one  wishes  in 
such  an  hour,"  cried  Sallie.  "  I  shall  always  love  you 
for  these  words." 

"  Yes,  I  congratulate  you  on  the  end  of  your  long  hesi- 
tation. I  know  you  will  be  happy.  Any  woman  would 
be  happy  with  the  love  of  such  a  man,  and  he  was  made 
for  you." 

"  Then  you  don't  believe  with  Papa,"  she  said  with 


428  The  Leopard's  Spots 

a  smile,  "that  his  mouth  is  cruel,  and  that  he  will  try 
to  whip  me  in  five  years,  do  you  ?  " 

Mrs.  Durham  laughed.  "  Yes,  he  will  whip  you,  but 
they  will  be  love  licks  and  you  will  cry  for  more.  Your 
lover  is  a  rare  and  brilliant  man.  He  is  strong,  rugged, 
resistless  in  will,  fierce  in  his  passions  from  the  blood 
of  sunny  France  in  his  veins,  and  masterful  in  life  from 
the  iron  heritage  of  the  hardier  races.  You  have  seen 
these  traits.  Wait  until  you  know  him  as  I  do  in  his 
daily  life,  and  you  will  find  a  wealth  of  patience  and  a 
depth  of  tenderness  that  will  startle.  I  envy  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  Sallie  interrupted.  "  You  don't  know 
how  glad  your  words  are  to  my  heart.  I've  not  seen  much 
of  that  trait  yet.  I've  been  half  afraid  of  him  sometimes. 
Let  me  kiss  you  again." 

The  keeper  of  the  jail  treated  Gaston  with  every 
consideration  and  arranged  for  the  marriage  to  take  place 
in  the  little  sitting  room  where  he  allowed  him  to  come 
on  parole. 

The  bride  wore  a  plain  travelling  dress  in  which  she 
had  come  from  New  York.  She  had  driven  from  the 
depot  past  Stella  Holt's  home,  and  with  her  straight  to 
the  jail. 

Gaston  thought  her  the  fairest  vision  that  ever  greeted 
the  eye  of  man  as  he  stood  by  her  side ;  for  he  had  seen 
that  day  the  soul  of  a  radiantly  beautiful  woman  in  the 
splendour  of  shameless  love*  His  own  soul  was  drunk 
with  the  joy  of  it  all  and  his  eyes  now  devoured  her  with 
their  intense  light. 

'  Standing  there  before  the  Preacher  whom  he  loved  as 
his  father,  and  the  foster  mother  who  had  wrapped  his 
little  shivering  body  in  the  warmth  of  a  great  heart  that 
night  the  light  of  life  went  out  in  his  own  mother's  room, 
with  Stella  Holt's  sympathetic  face  reflecting  her  friend's 
happiness,  the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed.  He 


The  Splendour  of  Shameless  Love       429 

took  Sallie's  trembling  hand  in  his  and  promised  to  love, 
honour  and  cherish  her  as  long  as  life  endured.  And 
under  his  breath  he  added,  "  Here  and  hereafter — for- 
ever." And  then  she  looked  into  his  smiling  face  with 
her  blue  eyes  full  of  unspeakable  love,  and  in  a  voice 
low  and  soft  as  the  note  of  a  flute,  gave  to  him  her  life. 

And  the  Preacher  said,  "  What  God  hath  joined  to- 
gether, let  not  man  put  asunder !  " 

She  stayed  there  with  him  until  the  gathering  twi- 
light. 

"  Now,  I  must  hurry  back  to  my  father  and  win  him.  I 
will  not  come  to  you  a  beggar.  My  father  shall  not  dis- 
inherit me.  I  am  going  to  bring  you  my  fortune,  too." 

"  Oh !  curse  that  fortune,  dear !  I've  feared  it  was 
that  keeping  us  apart  so  long." 

"  Don't  curse  it.  I  like  it,  and  I  am  going  to  win  it 
for  you.  You  are  a  man  of  genius.  Your  success  is  as 
sure  as  if  it  were  already  won.  I  will  not  come  to  you  a 
helpless  pauper.  I  have  never  been  taught  to  do  anything. 
I  should  like  to  cook  for  you  if  I  knew  how,  and  I  am 
going  to  learn  how.  I  am  going  to  make  you  the  most 
beautiful  home  that  the  heart  of  a  woman  can  dream. 
I'd  rob  the  world  for  treasure  for  it.  I  am  going  to  rob 
my  dear  old  father.  He  has  sworn  to  disinherit  me  if 
I  marry  without  his  consent.  He  shall  not  do  it." 

"  Then,  don't  be  long  about  it.  You  are  my  treasure, 
I  can  build  you  a  snug  little  nest  at  Hambright." 

"  I  will  only  ask  four  weeks.  Now  do  what  I  tell  you. 
Sit  down  and  write  Papa  a  letter  telling  him  I  am  your 
affianced  bride  and  ask  his  consent  to  the  celebration  of 
our  marriage  within  three  weeks.  That  will  produce  an 
earthquake,  and  something  will  surely  happen  within  four 
weeks." 

He  wrote  the  letter,  and  she  looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"  You  see,  dear,"  she  said  as  she  kissed  him  good-bye, 


430  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I  love  Papa  so  tenderly.  You  can't  understand  How 
close  the  tie  is  between  us,  perhaps  some  day  in  our  own 
home  of  which  I'm  dreaming  you  may  understand  as  you 
can  not  now,"  she  added  softly. 

"  Then  for  your  sake,  dearest,  I  hope  you  can  win 
him.  But  I'm  afraid  of  this  plan  of  yours." 

"  Leave  it  with  me  for  a  month,  do  just  as  I  tell  you,; 
and  then  I'll  obey  you  all  the  rest  of  our  lives, — if  youu 
orders  suit  me,"  she  playfully  added. 

She  returned  to  Stella  Holt's,  and  Gaston  went  back  to 
his  jail  room  and  dreamed  that  night  he  was  sleeping  in 
the  Governor's  Palace. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A  SPEECH  THAT  MADE  HISTORY 

WHEN  General  Worth  received  Gaston's  brief 
and  startling  letter,  the  wires  were  hot  be- 
tween New  York  and  Asheville  for  hours. 
His  last  message  was  a   peremptory    command    to    his 
daughter  to  join  him  immediately  at  Independence. 

When  Sallie  arrived  at  Oakwood  the  General  was  al- 
ready there,  and  the  storm  broke  in  all  its  fury.  At  every 
bitter  word  she  only  quietly  smiled,  until  the  General  was 
on  the  verge  of  collapse.  Day  after  day  he  begged, 
pleaded,  raged  and  finally  took  to  hard  swearing  as  he 
looked  into  her  calm  happy  face. 

In  the  meantime  McLeod  and  his  henchman  on  the 
judge's  bench  had  seen  a  new  light.  The  excitement  over 
the  arrest  of  Gaston  seemed  to  have  fanned  the  flames  of 
the  Red  Shirt  movement  into  a  conflagration.  He  was 
alarmed  at  its  meaning.  The  judge  heard  a  rumour  that 
five  thousand  Red  Shirts  were  mobilising  at  the  foot  of 
the  Blue  Ridge  near  Hambright,  and  that  they  were 
going  to  march  across  the  mountains,  into  Asheville,  de- 
molish the  jail,  liberate  Gaston,  and  hang  the  judge  who 
had  committed  him  without  bail. 

The  rumour  was  a  fake,  but  he  was  not  taking  any 
chances.  He  issued  an  order  releasing  Gaston  on  his  own 
recognisance,  and  left  for  a  vacation. 

Gaston  returned  to  Hambright  showered  with  con- 
gratulatory telegrams  from  every  quarter  of  the  state. 

431 


432  The  Leopard's  Spots 

He  received  a  brief  note  from  Sallie  saying  the  war 
was  on  but  had  not  reached  its  final  climax,  as  the  Gen- 
eral was  now  devoting  his  best  energies  to  the  Demo- 
cratic convention  which  was  to  meet  in  ten  days,  when 
he  expected  to  crush  any  "  fool  movement  of  young  up- 
starts ! " 

Gaston  knew  of  his  organisation  but  he  was  sure  the 
number  of  delegates  pledged  to  the  General's  machine 
was  not  enough  to  dominate  the  body,  even  if  he  could 
hold  them  in  line. 

When  this  convention  met  at  Raleigh,  no  body  of 
representative  men  were  ever  more  completely  at  sea  as 
to  the  platform  or  policy  upon  which  they  would  appeal 
to  the  people  for  the  overthrow  of  an  enemy.  The  coali- 
tion that  conquered  the  state  and  held  it  with  the 
grip  of  steel  for  four  years  was  stronger  than 
ever  and  was  absolutely  certain  of  victory.  The  enor- 
mous patronage  of  the  Federal  Government  had  been  in 
their  hands  for  four  years,  and  with  the  state,  county 
and  municipal  officers,  a  host  of  powerful  leaders 
had  been  gathered  around  McLeod's  daring  personality. 
Apparently  he  was  about  to  fasten  the  rule  of  the  Negro 
and  his  allies  on  the  state  for  a  generation. 

When  Gaston  entered  the  convention  hall  he  received 
an  ovation,  heartfelt  and  generous,  but  it  did  not  reach 
the  point  of  a  disturbing  element  in  the  calculations  of 
the  three  or  four  prominent  candidates  for  Governor. 
General  Worth  had  drilled  his  cohorts  so  thoroughly  in 
opposition  to  him,  that  any  sort  of  stampeding  was  out 
of  the  question. 

The  platform  committee  was  composed  of  seven  lead- 
ers, among  whom  was  Gaston.  There  was  a  long  wrangle 
over  the  document,  and  at  length  when  they  reported,  a 
sensation  was  created.  For  the  first  time  since  their 
triumph  over  Simon  Legree  the  committee  was  divided, 


A  Speech  That  Made  History          433 

and,  refusing  to  agree,  submitted  majority  and  minority 
reports.  The  committee  stood  five  for  the  majority  and 
two  for  the  minority. 

Gaston  and  a  daring  young  politician  from  the  heart  of 
the  Black  Belt  signed  the  minority  report.  The  majority 
report  as  submitted,  was  merely  a  rehash  of  the  old 
platform  on  which  they  had  been  defeated  by  McLeod 
twice,  with  slight  additional  impeachment  of  the  inca- 
pacity and  corruption  of  the  State  Administration.  The 
delegates  from  the  Black  Belt  and  the  counties  where  the 
Red  Shirts  had  been  holding  their  noonday  parades 
received  it  with  silence.  General  Worth's  machine 
cheered  it  vigourously,  and  gave  a  rousing  reception 
to  their  chosen  champion  who  made  the  presentation 
speech. 

When  Gaston  rose  to  offer  and  defend  his  minority 
report,  a  sudden  hush  fell  on  the  sea  of  eager  faces.  A 
few  men  in  the  convention  had  heard  him  speak.  All  had 
heard  he  was  an  orator  of  power,  and  were  anxious  to 
see  him.  His  leadership  in  the  Revolution  of  Independ- 
ence and  his  subsequent  arrest  and  imprisonment  had 
made  him  a  famous  man. 

"  Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Convention :" 
he  began  with  a  deliberate  clear  voice  which  spoke  of 
greater  reserve  power  than  the  words  he  uttered  con- 
veyed— "  I  move  to  substitute  for  this  document  of  mean- 
ingless platitudes  the  following  resolution  on  which  to 
make  this  campaign." 

You  could  have  heard  a  pin  fall,  as  in  ringing  tones 
like  the  call  of  a  bugle  to  battle  he  read, 

"  Whereas,  it  is  impossible  to  build  a  state  inside  a 
state  of  two  antagonistic  races, 

And  whereas,  the  future  North  Carolinian  must  there- 
fore be  an  Anglo-Saxon  or  a  .Mulatto, 

Resolved,  that  the  hour  has  now  come  in  our  history 


434  The  Leopard's  Spots 

to  eliminate  the  Negro  from  our  life  and  reestablish  fofc 
all  time  the  government  of  our  fathers." 

The  delegates  from  New  Hanover,  Craven,  and  Halifax 
counties,  the  great  centres  of  the  Black  Belt,  sprang  on 
their  seats  with  a  roar  of  applause  that  shook  the  build- 
ing, and  pandemonium  broke  loose*  When  one  great 
wave  subsided  another  followed.  It  was  ten  minutes 
before  order  was  restored  while  Gaston  stood  calmly  sur- 
veying the  storm. 

Just  before  him  sat  General  Worth,  pale  and  trembling 
with  excitement.  The  audacity  of  those  resolutions  had 
swept  him  for  a  moment  off  his  feet  and  back  into  the 
years  of  his  own  daring  young  manhood.  He  could 
not  help  admiring  this  challenge  of  the  modern  world 
to  stand  at  the  bar  of  elemental  manhood  and  make 
good, its  right  to  existence.  He  was  about  to  summon 
his  messengers  and  rally  his  lieutenants  when  Gaston 
began  to  speak,  and  his  first  words  chained  his  attention. 

While  the  tumult  raised  by  his  resolutions  was  in  prog- 
ress he  lifted  his  eye  toward  the  gallery  and  there 
just  above  him  where  it  curved  toward  the  plat- 
form sat  his  beautiful  secret  bride.  His  heart  leaped. 
Her  face  was  aflame  with  emotion,  her  eyes  flashing  with 
love  and  pride.  She  slyly  touched  with  her  lips  the  tip 
of  her  finger  and  blew  a  kiss  across  the  intervening 
space.  He  smiled  into  her  soul  a  look  of  gratitude,  and 
with  every  nerve  strung  to  its  highest  tension  resumed 
his  place  by  the  speaker's  stand.  When  the  tumult  died 
away  he  began  a  speech  that  fixed  the  history  of  a  state 
for  a  thousand  years. 

His  resolutions  had  wrought  the  crowd  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  excitement,  and  his  words,  clear,  penetrating,  and 
deliberate  thrilled  his  hearers  with  electrical  power. 

"  Gentlemen :"  he  said,  and  the  slightest  whisper  was 
hushed.  "  The  history  of  man  is  a  series  of  great  pulse 


A  Speech  That  Made  History          435 

beats,  whose  flood  overwhelms  his  future  and  fixes  its 
life.  Like  the  dammed  torrent  on  a  mountain  side,  it 
breaks  the  conservatism  that  holds  it  stagnant  for  genera- 
tions and  floods  the  world  with  its  sweep.  Theories, 
creeds,  and  institutions  hallowed  by  age,  are  cast  as 
rubbish  on  the  scarred  hills  that  mark  its  course.  The  old 
world  is  buried  and  a  new  one  appears. 

"  The  Anglo-Saxon  is  entering  the  new  century  with 
the  imperial  crown  of  the  ages  on  his  brow  and  the 
sceptre  of  the  infinite  in  his  hands. 

"The  Old  South  fought  against  the  stars  in  their 
courses — the  resistless  tide  of  the  rising  consciousness 
of  Nationality  and  World-Mission.  The  young  South 
greets  the  new  era  and  glories  in  its  manhood.  He  joins 
his  voice  in  the  cheers  of  triumph  which  are  ushering  in 
this  all-conquering  Saxon.  Our  old  men  dreamed  oi 
local  supremacy.  We  dream  of  the  conquest  of  the 
globe.  Threads  of  steel  have  knit  state  to  state.  Steam 
and  electricity  have  silently  transformed  the  face  of  the 
earth,  annihilated  time  and  space,  and  swept  the  ocean 
barriers  from  the  path  of  man.  The  black  steam  shuttles 
of  commerce  have  woven  continent  to  continent. 

"  We  believe  that  God  has  raised  up  our  race,  as  he 
ordained  Israel  of  old,  in  this  world-crisis  to  establish  and 
maintain  for  weaker  races,  as  a  trust  for  civilisation,  the 
principles  of  civil  and  religious  Liberty  and  the  forms  of 
Constitutional  Government. 

"  In  this  hour  of  crisis,  our  flag  has  been  raised  over 
ten  millions  of  semi-barbaric  black  men  in  the  foulest 
slave  pen  of  the  Orient.  Shall  we  repeat  the  farce 
of  '67,  reverse  the  order  of  nature,  and  make  these  black 
people  our  rulers?  If  not,  why  should  the  African  here, 
who  is  not  their  equal,  be  allowed  to  imperil  our  life  ?  " 

A  whirlwind  of  applause  shook  the  building. 

"  A  crisis  approaches   in   the   history   of  the   human 


436  The  Leopard's  Spots 

race.  The  world  is  stirred  by  its  consciousness  to- 
day. The  nation  must  gird  up  her  loins  and  show  her 
right  to  live, — to  master  the  future  or  be  mastered  in 
the  struggle.  New  questions  press  upon  us  for  solution. 

"  Shall  this  grand  old  commonwealth  lag  behind  and 
sink  into  the  filth  and  degradation  of  a  Negroid  corrup- 
tion in  this  solemn  hour  of  the  world  ?  " 

"  No !    No !  "  screamed  a  thousand  voices. 

"  What  is  our  condition  to-day  in  the  dawn  of  the 
twentieth  century?  If  we  attempt  to  move  forward  we  are 
literally  chained  to  the  body  of  a  festering  Black  Death ! 

"  Fifty  of  our  great  counties  are  again  under  the  heel 
of  the  Negro,  and  the  state  is  in  his  clutches.  Our  city 
governments  are  debauched  by  his  vote.  His  insolence 
threatens  our  womanhood,  and  our  children  are  beaten 
by  negro  toughs  on  the  way  to  school  while  we 
pay  his  taxes.  Shall  we  longer  tolerate  negro  in- 
spectors of  white  schools,  and  negroes  in  charge  of  white 
institutions  ?  Shall  we  longer  tolerate  the  arrest  of  white 
women  by  negro  officers  and  their  trial  before  negro 
magistrates  ? 

"  Let  the  manhood  of  the  Aryan  race  with  its  four 
thousand  years  of  authentic  history  answer  that  ques- 
tion !  " 

With  blazing  eyes,  and  voice  that  rang  with  the  deep 
peal  of  defiant  power,  Gaston  hurled  that  sentence  like 
a  thunder  bolt  into  the  souls  of  his  two  thousand  hearers. 
The  surging  host  sprang  to  their  feet  and  shouted  back 
an  answer  that  made  the  earth  tremble ! 

Lifting  his  hand  for  silence  he  continued, 

"  It  is  no  longer  a  question  of  bad  government.  It  is 
a  question  of  impossible  government.  We  lag  behind 
the  age  dragging  the  decaying  corpse  to  which  we  are 
chained. 

"  Who  shall  deliver  us  from  the  body  of  this  death  ? 


A  Speech  That  Made  History  437 

"  Hear  me,  men  of  my  race,  Norman  and  Celt,  Angle 
and  Saxon,  Dane  and  Frank,  Huguenot  and  German 
martyr  blood! 

"  The  hour  has  struck  when  we  must  rise  in  our  might, 
break  the  chains  that  bind  us  to  this  corruption,  strike 
down  the  Negro  as  a  ruling  power,  and  restore  to  our 
children  their  birthright,  which  we  received,  a  priceless 
legacy,  from  our  fathers . 

"  I  believe  in  God's  call  to  our  race  to  do  His  work 
in  history.  What  other  races  failed  to  do,  you  wrought 
in  this  continental  wilderness,  fighting  pestilence,  hunger, 
cold,  wild  beasts,  and  savage  hordes,  until  out  of  it  all 
has  grown  the  mightiest  nation  of  the  earth. 

"  Is  the  Negro  worthy  to  rule  over  you  ? 

"  Ask  history.  The  African  has  held  one  fourth  of  this 
globe  for  3000  years.  He  has  never  taken  one  step  in 
progress  or  rescued  one  jungle  from  the  ape  and  the 
adder,  except  as  the  slave  of  a  superior  race. 

"  In  Hayti  and  San  Domingo  he  rose  in  servile  insur- 
rection and  butchered  fifty  thousand  white  men,  women 
and  children  a  hundred  years  ago.  He  has  ruled  these 
beautiful  islands  since.  Did  he  make  progress  with  the 
example  of  Aryan  civilisation  before  him?  No.  But 
yesterday  we  received  reports  of  the  discovery  of  canni- 
balism in  Hayti. 

"  He  has  had  one  hundred  years  of  trial  in  the  Northern 
states  of  this  Union  with  every  facility  of  culture  and 
progress,  and  he  has  not  produced  one  man  who  has 
added  a  feather's  weight  to  the  progress  of  humanity.  In 
an  hour  of  madness  the  dominion  of  the  ten  great  states 
of  the  South  was  given  him  without  a  struggle.  A 
saturnalia  of  infamy  followed. 

"  Shall  we  return  to  this  ?  You  must  answer.  The  cor- 
ruption of  his  presence  in  our  body  politic  is  beyond  the 
power  of  reckoning.  We  drove  the  Carpet-bagger  from 


43  8  The  Leopard's  Spots 

our  midst,  but  the  Scalawag,  our  native  product,  is  al- 
ways with  us  to  fatten  on  this  corruption  and  breed  death 
to  society.  The  Carpet-bagger  was  a  wolf,  the  Scala- 
wag is  a  hyena.  The  one  was  a  highwayman,  the  other  a 
sneak. 

"  So  long  as  the  Negro  is  a  factor  in  our  political  life, 
will  violence  and  corruption  stain  our  history.  We  can 
not  afford  longer  to  play  with  violence.  We  must  remove 
the  cause. 

"  Suffrage  in  America  has  touched  the  lowest  tide-mud 
of  degradation.  If  our  cities  and  our  Southern  civilsa- 
tion  are  to  be  preserved,  there  must  be  a  return  to  the 
sanity  of  the  founders  of  this  Republic. 

"  A  government  of  the  wealth,  virtue  and  intelligence  of 
the  community,  by  the  debased  and  the  criminal,  is  a  re- 
lapse to  elemental  barbarism  to  which  no  race  «f  freemen 
can  submit. 

"  Shall  the  future  North  Carolinian  be  an  Anglo-Saxon 
or  a  Mulatto?  That  is  the  question  before  you. 

"  Nations  are  made  by  men,  not  by  paper  constitutions 
and  paper  ballots.  We  are  not  free  because  we  have  a 
Constitution.  We  have  a  Constitution  because  our  pioneer 
fathers  who  cleared  the  wilderness  and  dared  the  might 
of  kings,  were  freemen.  It  was  in  their  blood,  the  tute- 
lage of  generation  on  generation  beyond  the  seas,  the 
evolution  of  centuries  of  struggle  and  sacrifice. 

"If  you  can  make  men  out  of  paper,  then  it  is  possible 
with  a  scratch  of  a  pen  in  the  hand  of  a  madman  to 
transform  by  its  magic  a  million  slaves  into  a  million 
kings. 

"  We  grant  the  Negro  the  right  to  life,  liberty  and  the 
pursuit  of  happiness  if  he  can  be  happy  without  exercis- 
ing kingship  over  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  or  dragging  us 
down  to  his  level.  But  if  he  can  not  find  happiness  ex- 
cept in  lording  it  over  a  superior  race,  let  him  look  for 


A  Speech  That  Made  History          439 

another  world  in  which  to  rule.  There  is  not  room  for 
both  of  us  on  this  continent ! " 

Again  and  again  Gaston  raised  his  hand  to  still  the 
mad  tumult  of  applause  his  words  evoked. 

"  And  we  will  fight  it  out  on  this  line,  if  it  takes  a 
hundred  years,  two  hundred,  five  hundred,  or  a  thousand. 
It  took  Spain  eight  hundred  years  to  expel  the  Moors. 
When  the  time  comes  the  Anglo-Saxon  can  do  in  one 
century  what  the  Spaniard  did  in  eight. 

"  We  have  been  congratulated  on  our  self-restraint 
under  the  awful  provocation  of  the  past  four  years. 
There  is  a  limit  beyond  which  we  dare  not  go,  for  at 
this  point,  self-restraint  becomes  pusillanimous  and  means 
the  loss  of  manhood." 

He  then  reviewed  with  thrilling  power  the  history  of 
the  state  and  the  proud  part  played  in  the  development 
of  the  Republic.  He  showed  how  this  border  wilder- 
ness of  North  Carolina  became  the  cradle  of  American 
Democracy  and  the  typical  commonwealth  of  freemen. 

He  played  with  the  heart-strings  of  his  hearers  in  this 
close  personal  history  as  a  great  master  touches  the  strings 
of  a  harp.  His  voice  was  now  low  and  quivering  with 
the  music  of  passion,  and  then  soft  and  caressing.  He 
would  swing  them  from  laughter  to  tears  in  a  single 
sentence,  and  in  the  next,  the  lightning  flash  of  a  fierce 
invective  drove  into  their  hearts  its  keen  blade  so  sud- 
denly the  vast  crowd  started  as  one  man  and  winced  at 
its  power. 

Through  it  all  he  was  conscious  of  two  blue  eyes 
swimming  in  tears  looking  down  on  him  from  the  gallery. 

The  crowd  now  had  grown  so  entranced,  and  the  tor- 
rent of  his  speech  so  rapid,  they  forgot  to  cheer  and 
feared  to  cheer  lest  they  should  lose  a  word  of  the  next 
sentence.  They  hung  breathless  on  every  flash  of  feel- 
ing from  his  face  or  eloquent  gesture. 


440  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  I  am  not  talking  of  a  vague  theory  of  constructive 
dominion,"  he  continued,  "  when  I  refer  to  the  Negro 
supremacy  under  which  our  civilisation  is  being  de- 
graded. I  use  words  in  their  plain  meaning.  Negro  su- 
premacy means  the  rule  of  a  party  in  which  negroes  pre- 
dominate and  that  means  a  Negro  oligarchy. 

"  I  call  your  attention  to  one  typical  county  of  over 
forty  thus  degraded,  the  county  of  Craven,  whose  quaint 
old  city  was  once  the  Capital  of  this  commonwealth.  What 
are  the  facts  ?  The  negro  office-holders  of  Craven  county 
include  a  Congressman,  a  member  of  the  Legislature,  a 
Register  of  Deeds,  the  City  Attorney,  the  Coroner,  two 
Deputy  Sheriffs,  two  County  Commissioners,  a  Member 
of  the  School  Board,  three  Road  Overseers,  four  Con- 
stables, twenty-seven  Magistrates,  three  City  Aldermen 
and  four  Policemen.  There  are  sixty-two  negro  officials 
in  this  county  of  12,000  inhabitants,  and  their  member 
of  the  Legislature  is  a  convicted  felon.  The  white  people 
represent  ninety-five  per  cent  of  the  wealth  and  intelli- 
gence of  the  community,  and  pay  ninety-five  per  cent  of 
its  taxes  and  are  voiceless  in  its  government. 

"  Would  a  county  in  Massachusetts  submit  to  such 
infamy?  No,  ten  thousand  times,  no!  There  is  not  a 
county  in  the  North  from  Maine  to  California  that  would 
submit  to  it  twenty-four  hours.  Will  the  children  of 
Lexington,  Concord  and  Bunker  Hill  demand  such  sub- 
mission from  the  children  of  Washington  and  Jefferson  ? 
No.  The  passions  that  obscured  reason  have  subsided. 
The  Anglo-Saxon  race  is  united  and  has  entered  upon 
its  world  mission. 

"  We  will  take  from  an  unprofitable  servant  the  ballot 
he  has  abused.  To  him  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and 
from  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that 
which  he  hath.  It  is  the  law  of  nature.  It  is  the  law  of 
God. 


A  Speech  That  Made  History  441 

"  Yes,  I  confess  it,"  he  continued,  "  I  am  in  a  sense 
narrow  and  provincial.  I  love  mine  own  people.  Their 
past  is  mine,  their  present  mine,  their  future  is  a  divine 
trust.  I  hate  the  dish  water  of  modern  world-citizenship. 
A  shallow  cosmopolitanism  is  the  mask  of  death  for  the 
individual.  It  is  the  froth  of  civilisation,  as  crime  is  its 
dregs.  Race,  and  race  pride,  are  the  ordinances  of  life. 
The  true  citizen  of  the  world  loves  his  country.  His 
country  is  a  part  of  God's  world. 

"  So  I  confess  I  love  my  people.  I  love  the  South, — 
the  stolid  silent  South,  that  for  a  generation  has  sneered 
at  paper-made  policies,  and  scorned  public  opinion .  The 
South,  old-fashioned,  mediaeval,  provincial,  worshipping 
the  dead,  and  raising  men  rather  than  making  money, 
family  loving,  home  building,  tradition  ridden.  The 
South,  cruel  and  cunning  when  fighting  a  treacherous 
foe,  with  brief  volcanic  bursts  of  wrath  and  vengeance. 
The  South,  eloquent,  bombastic,  romantic,  chivalrous, 
lustful,  proud,  kind  and  hospitable.  The  South  with 
her  beautiful  women  and  brave  men .  The  South,  gener- 
ous and  reckless,  never  knowing  her  own  interest,  but 
living  her  own  life  in  her  own  way! — Yes,  I  love  her! 
In  my  soul  are  all  her  sins  and  virtues.  And  with  it  all 
she  is  worthy  to  live . 

"  The  historian  tells  us  that  all  things  pass  in  time. 
Wolves  whelp  and  stable  in  the  palaces  of  dead  kings  and 
forgotten  civilisations.  Memphis,  Thebes  and  Babylon 
are  but  names  to-day.  So  New  Orleans  and  New  York 
may  perish.  African  antiquarians  may  explore  their 
ruins  and  speculate  upon  their  life;  but  we  may  safely 
fix  upon  a  thousand  centuries  of  intervening  time.  On 
your  shoulders  now  rests  the  burden  of  civilisation.  We 
must  face  its  responsibilities.  For  my  part,  I  believe  in 
your  future. 

"  The  courage  of  the  Celt,  the  nobility  of  the  Norman, 


442  The  Leopard's  Spots 

the  vigour  of  the  Viking,  the  energy  of  the  Angle,  the 
tenacity  of  the  Saxon,  the  daring  of  the  Dane,  the  gal- 
lantry of  the  Gaul,  the  freedom  of  the  Frank,  the  earth- 
hunger  of  the  Roman  and  the  stoicism  of  the  Spartan 
are  all  yours  by  the  lineal  heritage  of  blood,  from  sire 
and  dame  through  hundreds  of  generations  and  through 
centuries  of  culture. 

"  Will  you  halt  now  and  surrender  to  a  mob  of  ragged 
negroes  led  by  white  cowards  who  at  the  first  clash  of 
conflict  will  hide  in  sewers  ? 

"  I  ask  you,  my  people,  freemen,  North  Carolinians,  to 
rise  to-day  and  make  good  your  right  to  live !  The  time 
for  platitudes  is  past.  Let  us  as  men  face  the  world  and 
say  what  we  mean. 

"  This  is  a  white  man's  government,  conceived  by  white 
men,  and  maintained  by  white  men  through  every  year  of 
its  history, — and  by  the  God  of  our  Fathers  it  shall  be 
ruled  by  white  men  until  the  Arch-angel  shall  call  the 
end  of  time ! 

"If  this  be  treason,  let  them  that  hear  it  make  the  most 
of  it. 

"  From  the  eighth  day  of  November  we  will  not  submit 
to  Negro  dominion  another  day,  another  hour,  another 
moment !  Back  of  every  ballot  is  a  bayonet,  and  the  red 
blood  of  the  man  who  holds  it.  Let  cowards  hear,  and 
remember  this !  Man  has  never  yet  voted  away  his  right 
to  a  revolution. 

"  Citizen  kings,  I  call  you  to  the  consciousness  of  your 
kingship ! " 

Gaston  closed  and  turned  toward  his  seat,  while  the 
crowd  hung  breathless  waiting  for  his  next  word.  When 
they  realised  that  he  had  finished,  a  rumble  like  the  crash 
in  midheaven  of  two  storms  rolled  over  the  surging  sea 
of  men,  broke  against  the  girders  of  the  roof  like 
the  thunder  of  the  Hatteras  surf  lashed  by  a  hurri- 


A  Speech  That  Made  History          443 

cane .  Two  thousand  men  went  mad.  With  one  common 
impulse  they  sprang  to  their  feet,  screaming,  shouting, 
cheering,  shaking  each  other's  hands,  crying  and  laugh- 
ing. With  the  sullen  roar  of  crashing  thunder  another 
whirlwind  of  cheers  swept  the  crowd,  shook  the  earth, 
and  pierced  the  sky  with  its  challenge .  Wave  after  wave 
of  applause  swept  the  building  and  flung  their 
rumbling  echoes  among  the  stars.  These  patient  kindly 
people,  slow  to  anger,  now  terrible  in  wrath,  were  trem- 
bling with  the  pent-up  passion  and  fury  of  years . 

What  power  could  resist  their  wrath! 

Through  it  all  Gaston  sat  silent  behind  the  group  of 
the  majority  of  the  platform  committee,  with  eyes  de- 
vouring a  beautiful  face  bending  toward  him  from  the 
gallery.  She  was  softly  weeping  with  love  and  pride  too 
deep  for  words. 

While  the  tumult  was  still  raging,  before  he  was  con- 
scious of  his  presence,  General  Worth's  stalwart  figure 
was  bending  over  him,  and  grasping  his  hand. 

"  My  boy,  I  give  it  up.  You  have  beaten  me .  I'm 
proud  of  you.  I  forgive  everything  for  that  speech. 
You  can  have  my  girl.  The  date  you've  fixed  for  the 
marriage  suits  me.  Let  us  forget  the  past." 

Gaston  pressed  his  hand  muttering  brokenly  his  thanks, 
and  his  soul  sank  within  him  at  the  thought  of  this  proud 
old  iron-willed  warrior's  anger  if  he  discovered  their 
secret  marriage. 

The  General  turned  toward  the  side  of  the  platform; 
for  he  had  seen  the  flash  of  Sallie's  dress  on  the  stairs 
of  the  balcony  leading  to  the  stage.  He  knew  her  keen 
eye  had  seen  his  surrender  and  his  heart  was  hungry  for 
the  kiss  of  reconciliation  that  would  restore  their  old 
perfect  love. 

He  met  her  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  she  threw  her 
arms  impulsively  around  his  neck. 


The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  Oh !  Papa,  dear !  I  am  the  happiest  girl  in  the 
world .  The  two  men  of  all  men — the  only  two  I  love — 
are  mine  forever !  " 

While  the  applause  was  still  echoing  and  reechoing 
over  the  sea  of  surging  men,  and  thousands  of  excited 
people  were  crowding  the  windows  from  the  outside  and 
blocking  the  streets  in  every  direction  clamouring  for  ad- 
mittance, a  tall  man  with  grey  beard  and  stentorian  voice, 
sprang  on  the  platform.  It  was  General  Worth's  candi- 
date for  Governor.  He  had  not  consulted  the  General  but 
he  had  an  important  motion  to  make.  The  crowd  was 
stilled  at  last  and  his  deep  voice  rang  through  the  build- 
ing, 

"  Gentlemen,  I  move  that  the  minority  report  offered 
by  Charles  Gaston  " — again  a  thunder  peal  of  applause 
— "  be  adopted  as  the  platform  by  acclamation !  " 

A  storm  of  "  ayes  "  burst  from  the  throats  of  the  dele- 
gates in  a  single  breath  like  the  crash  of  an  explosion 
of  dynamite. 

"  And  now  that  our  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the 
Lord,  as  we  heard  His  messenger  anointed  to  lead 
His  people,  I  move  that  this  convention  nominate  by 
acclamation  for  Governor — Charles  Gaston ! " 

Again  two  thousand  men  were  on  their  feet  shouting, 
cheering,  shaking  hands,  hugging  one  another  and  weep- 
ing and  yelling  like  maniacs. 

A  speech  had  been  made  that  changed  the  current  of 
history,  and  fixed  the  status  of  life  for  millions  of  people, 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  RED  SHIRTS 

AS  soon  as  Gaston  could  leave  the  throngs  of  friends 
who  were  congratulating  him  on  his  remarkable 
speech  and  his  certainty  of  election,  he  hastened 
to  find  Sallie. 

"  My  lover,  my  king ! "  she  cried  impulsively  as  he 
clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Your  eyes  kindled  the  fire  in  my  soul  and  gave  me 
the  power  to  mould  that  crowd  to  my  will ! "  he  softly 
told  her. 

"  It  is  sweet  to  hear  you  say  that !  " 

"  'Now,  my  love,  we  are  in  an  awful  situation.  What 
are  we  to  do  with  the  General  storming  around  prepar- 
ing for  a  grand  wedding?  What  if  that  jailer  gives  out 
the  news?  McLeod  can  get  it  out  of  him  if  he  ever 
suspects  anything." 

"  Don't  worry,  dear.  I'll  manage  everything.  We've 
fixed  the  wedding  on  the  Inauguration  day — so  you  can't 
be  defeated.  We  will  be  busy  day  and  night  getting 
ready  my  trousseau,  and  issuing  our  invitations.  Papa 
will  never  dream  that  one  ceremony  has  been  performed 
already.  He  need  never  know  it  until  we  are  ready  to 
tell  him." 

"  If  he  discovers  it,  he  will  swear  I  have  tried  to  hu- 
miliate him,  and  he  will  never  forgive  it.  Telegraph  me 
if  anything  happens,  and  I  will  come  immediately.  I 
can't  see  you  for  weeks  in  the  campaign,  but  I  will  write 
to  you  every  day." 

445 


446  The  Leopard's  Spots 

"  His  Excellency,  the  Governor  of  North  Carolina  I  " 
she  softly  exclaimed  with  a  dreamy  look  into  his  face. 
"My  lover!" 

"  Don't  make  me  vain.  I  may  be  the  Governor,  but  I 
shall  always  be  the  slave  of  a  beautiful  woman  who  came 
one  day  to  a  jail  and  made  it  a  palace  with  the  glory  of 
her  love!" 

"  I'm  glad  I  didn't  wait  for  your  success." 
*  *  *  <*  * 

The  campaign  which  followed  was  the  most  remark- 
able ever  conducted  in  the  history  of  an  American  com- 
monwealth. In  the  dawn  of  the  twentieth  century,  a  re- 
sistless movement  was  inaugurated  to  destroy  the  party 
in  control  of  a  state,  and  affiliated  with  the  most  powerful 
National  Administration  since  Andrew  Jackson's,  on  the 
open  declaration  of  their  intention  to  nullify  the  Four- 
teenth and  Fifteenth  Amendments  to  the  Constitution 
of  the  Republic. 

There  was  no  violence  except  the  calm  demonstration 
in  open  daylight  of  omnipotent  racial  power,  and  the  de- 
fiance of  any  foe  to  lift  a  hand  in  protest. 

When  Gaston  spoke  at  Independence,  five  thousand 
white  men  dressed  in  scarlet  shirts  rode  silently  through 
the  streets  in  solemn  parade,  and  six  thousand  negroes 
watched  them  with  fear.  There  was  no  cheering  or  dem- 
onstration of  any  kind.  The  silence  of  the  procession 
gave  it  the  import  of  a  religious  rite.  A  thousand  picked 
men  were  in  line  from  Hambright  and  Campbell  county 
and  they  formed  the  guard  of  honour  for  their  candidate 
for  Governor. 

Like  scenes  were  enacted  everywhere.  Again  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race  was  fused  into  a  solid  mass?  The  re- 
sult was  a  foregone  conclusion. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  HIGHER  LAW 

MCLEOD  knew  from  the  day  of    that    outburst 
which  followed  Gaston's  speech  in  the  Demo- 
cratic convention  that  no  power  on  earth  could 
save  his  ticket.    To  the  world  he  put  on  a  bold  face  and 
made  his  fight  to  the  last  ditch,  predicting  victory. 

His  secret  anger  against  the  Preacher  and  Gaston,  his 
pet,  knew  no  bounds.  Chagrined  at  his  repulse  by  Mrs. 
Durham  and  the  attitude  of  contempt  she  had  main- 
tained toward  him,  his  tongue  began  to  wag  her  name 
in  slander  to  the  crowd  of  young  satellites  loafing  around 
his  office  in  Hambright. 

"  Yes,  boys,"  he  said,  "  the  Preacher  is  a  great  man, 
but  his  wife  is  greater.  She's  the  handsomest  woman  in 
the  state  in  spite  of  a  grey  thread  or  two  in  her  rich 
chestnut  hair.  She  has  the  most  beautiful  mouth  that 
ever  tempted  the  soul  of  a  man — and  boys,  my  lips  know 
what  it  means  to  touch  it." 

And  when  they  stared  with  open  eyes  at  this  state- 
ment, McLeod  shook  his  head,  laughed  and  whispered, 

"  Say  nothing  about  it — but  facts  are  facts !  " 

McLeod  chuckled  over  the  certainty  of  the  shame  and 
suffering  that  would  wring  the  Preacher's  heart  when 
dirty  gossips  of  a  village  had  magnified  these  words  into 
a  complete  drama  of  scandal.  For  all  preachers  McLeod 
had  profound  contempt,  and  he  felt  secure  now  from 
personal  harm. 

447 


448  The  Leopard's  Spots 

The  day  the  Preacher  first  heard  of  these  rumours  was 
the  occasion  of  Gaston's  campaign  address  under  the  old 
oak  in  the  square.  He  had  looked  forward  to  this  day 
with  boyish  pride  mingled  with  a  great  fatherly  love. 
It  would  be  his  triumph.  He  had  stirred  this  boy's 
imagination  and  moulded  his  character  in  the  pliant  hours 
of  his  childhood.  He  had  told  himself  that  day  he  spent 
with  him  in  the  woods  fishing,  that  he  had  kindled  a  fire 
in  his  soul  that  would  not  go  out  till  it  blazed  on  the 
altar  of  a  redeemed  country.  And  he  was  living  to  see 
that  day. 

The  streets  and  square  were  thronged  with  such  a 
multitude  as  the  village  had  never  seen  since  it  was 
built.  But  the  Preacher  was  not  among  them  at  the  hour 
the  speaking  began. 

A  simple  old  friend  from  the  country  asked  him  about 
these  rumours.  He  turned  pale  as  death,  made  no  answer, 
and  walked  rapidly  toward  his  study  in  the  church  where 
his  library  was  now  arranged.  He  was  dazed  with  hor- 
ror. It  was  the  first  he  had  heard  of  it.  One  thing  in 
his  estimate  of  life  had  always  been  as  securely  fixed  and 
sheltered  in  his  thought  as  his  faith  in  God,  and  that  was 
his  love  for  his  wife,  and  his  perfect  faith  in  her  honour. 

He  closed  his  door  and  locked  it  and  sat  down  trying 
to  think. 

Had  he  not  grown  careless  in  the  certainty  of  his  wife's 
devotion,  and  his  own  quiet  but  intense  love?  Had  he  not 
forgotten  the  yearning  of  a  woman's  heart  for  the  eternal 
repetition  of  love's  language  of  sign  and  word  ? 

The  tears  were  in  his  eyes  now,  and  he  felt  that  his 
heart  would  beat  to  death  and  break  within  him ! 

He  saw  that  his  enemy  had  struck  at  his  weakest  spot, 
and  struck  to  kill. 

He  lifted  his  face  toward  the  walls  in  a  vague  unsee- 
ing look  and  his  eyes  rested  on  a  pair  of  crossed  swords 


The  Higher  Law  449 

over  a  bookcase.  They  had  been  handed  down  to  him 
from  a  long  line  of  fighting  ancestors.  He  arose,  took 
them  down  mechanically,  and  drew  one  from  its  scab- 
bard. How  snugly  its  rough  hilt  fitted  his  nervous  hand 
grip !  He  felt  a  curious  throbbing  in  this  hilt  like  a  pulse. 
It  was  alive,  and  its  spirit  stirred  deep  waters  in  his  soul 
that  had  never  been  ruffled  before. 

He  recalled  vaguely  in  memory  things  he  knew  had 
never  happened  to  him  and  yet  were  part  of  his  inmost 
life. 

"  Damn  him !  "  he  involuntarily  hissed  as  he  gripped 
the  sword  hilt  with  the  instinctive  power  of  the  fighting 
animal  that  sleeps  beneath  the  skin  of  all  our  culture 
and  religion. 

And  then  his  eyes  rested  on  a  quaint  little  daguerreo- 
type picture  of  his  wife  in  her  bridal  dress,  her  sweet 
girlish  face  full  of  innocent  pride  and  warm  with  his 
love.  By  its  side  he  saw  the  portrait  of  their  dead  boy. 
How  he  recalled  now  every  hour  of  that  wonderful  period 
preceding  his  birth — the  unspeakable  pride  and  tender- 
ness with  which  he  watched  over  his  young  wife!  He 
recalled  the  morning  of  his  birth,  and  the  heart  rending, 
piteous  cries  of  young  motherhood  that  tore  his  heart 
until  the  nails  of  his  own  fingers  cut  the  flesh  and  drew 
the  blood.  How  the  minutes  seemed  long  hours,  and 
how  at  last  he  bent  over  her,  softly  kissed  the  drawn 
white  lips,  and  gazed  with  tearful  wonder  and  awe  on 
the  little  red  bundle  resting  on  her  breast!  He  recalled 
the  tremor  of  weariness  in  her  voice  when  she  drew  his 
head  down  close  and  whispered, 

"  I  didn't  mind  the  pain,  John,  though  I  couldn't  help 
the  cries.  He's  yours  and  mine — I  am  as  proud  as  a 
queen.  Now  our  souls  are  one  in  him — I  am  tired — I 
must  sleep." 

Every  movement  of  his  past  life  seemed  to  stand  out  in 


450  The  Leopard's  Spots 

this  crisis  with  fiery  clearness.  He  seemed  to  live  in  an 
instant  whole  years  in  every  detail  of  that  closeness  of 
personal  life  that  makes  marriage  a  part  of  every  stroke 
of  the  heart. 

At  last  he  set  his  lips  firmly  and  said, 

"  Yes,  damn  him,  I  will  kill  him  as  I  would  a  snake !  " 

He  sat  down  and  wrote  his  resignation  as  pastor  of  the 
church,  left  it  on  his  desk,  and  strode  hurriedly  from  the 
study  leaving  his  door  open.  He  purchased  a  revolver 
and  a  box  of  cartridges  and  walked  straight  to  McLeod's 
office. 

The  speaking  was  over,  and  McLeod  was  alone  writing 
letters.  He  looked  up  with  scant  politeness  as  the 
Preacher  entered  and  motioned  him  to  a  seat. 

Instead  of  seating  himself,  he  closed  the  door,  and 
standing  erect  in  front  of  it,  said, 

"  Allan  McLeod,  you  are  the  author  of  an  infamous 
slander  reflecting  on  the  honour  of  my  wife !  " 

"  Indeed !  "  McLeod  sneered,  wheeling  in  his  chair. 

"  I  always  knew  that  you  were  a  moral  leper  " — 

"  Of  course,  Doctor,  of  course,  but  don't  get  excited,* 
laughed  McLeod  enjoying  the  marks  of  anguish  on  his 
face. 

"  But  that  your  lecherous  body  should  dream  of  in- 
vading the  sanctity  of  my  home,  and  your  tongue  attempt 
to  smirch  its  honour,  was  beyond  my  wildest  dream  of 
your  effrontery.  How  dare  you  ?  " — 

"Dare?  Dare,  Preacher?"  interrupted  McLeod  still 
sneering.  "  Why,  by  '  The  Higher  Law/  of  course.  You 
have  been  teaching  all  your  life  that  there  are  higher 
laws  than  paper-made  statutes.  You  have  trained  this 
county  in  crime  under  this  beautiful  ideal.  Surely  I  may 
follow  the  teachings  of  a  master  in  Israel  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  red-headed  devil  ?  " 

"  Softly,   Preacher,"  smiled  McLeod.     "  Simply  this. 


I     HAVE     RESIGNED     MY      CHURCH TO      KILL     YOU." 


The  Higher  Law  451 

You  expound  '  The  Higher  Law/  for  political  consump- 
tion. I  apply  it  to  all  life. 

"  There  are  but  two  real  laws  of  man's  nature,  hunger 
and  love — all  others  change  with  time  and  progress. 
Tnese  are  the  higher  laws,  in  fact  they  are  the  highest 
laws.  The  stupid  conventions  that  superstition  has  built 
around  them  may  hold  back  the  weak,  but  the  powerful 
have  always  defied  them.  Your  brilliant  exposition  of 
the  higher  law  in  politics  first  set  my  mind  to  work,  and 
led  me  to  a  complete  emancipation  from  the  slavery  of 
conventionalism  in  which  fools  have  held  society  for  cen- 
turies. There  are  conventional  laws  and  superstitions 
about  the  little  ceremony  called  marriage  cherished  By  the 
weak-minded.  There  is  a  higher  law  of  nature.  The 
brave  live  this  life  of  daring  freedom,  while  cowards 
cling  to  forms.  Do  I  make  myself  clear  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  so,  you  mottled  leper.  You  think  that  be- 
cause I  am  a  preacher,  I  am  a  poltroon,  and  that  you  can 
play  with  me  without  danger  to  your  skin.  Well,  I  was 
a  man  before  I  was  a  preacher.  There  are  some  things 
deeper  than  the  forms  of  religion,  if  you  wish  to  push 
the  higher  law  to  its  last  application.  You  have  found 
that  quick  in  my  soul,  mine  enemy !  I  have  resigned  my 
church — to  kill  you.  There  is  not  room  for  you  and  me 
on  this  earth  " — 

McLeod  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  soul  chilled  by  the  tone 
in  which  the  threat  was  uttered.  He  started  to  call  for 
help,  and  looked  down  the  gleaming  barrel  of  a  revolver. 

"  Move  now  or  open  your  mouth,  and  I  kill  you  in- 
stantly. Sit  down.  I  give  you  five  minutes  to  write  your 
last  message  to  this  world." 

McLeod  sank  into  his  seat  trembling  like  a  leaf,  with 
the  perspiration  standing  out  on  his  forehead  in  cold 
beads.  Now  and  then  he  glanced  furtively  at  the  stern 
face  of  blind  fury  towering  over  his  crouching  form. 


452  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Unable  to  endure  the  terrible  strain,  he  sank  to  the 
floor  whining,  slobbering,  begging  in  abject  cowardice 
for  his  life.  He  crawled  toward  the  Preacher,  reached 
out  his  hand  and  touched  his  foot. 

"  My  God,  Doctor,  you  are  mad.  You  will  not  commit 
murder.  You  are  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ.  Have 
mercy.  I  am  at  your  feet.  Your  wife  is  as  pure  as  an 
angel.  I  only  said  what  I  did  to  torture  you  " — 

"Get  up  you  snake!"  hissed  the  Preacher,  stamping 
his  body  with  all  his  might  until  McLeod  screamed  with 
pain  and  scrambled  to  his  feet  cowering  and  whining 
like  a  cur. 

"Finish  your  letter.  You  will  never  leave  this  room 
alive." 

A  long  pitiful  sob  broke  the  stillness,  and  McLeod  was 
looking  into  the  Preacher's  face  in  vain  for  a  ray  of  hope. 

Suddenly  Gaston  burst  into  the  room  trembling  with 
excitement.  "My  God,  Doctor,  what  does  this  mean?" 
he  cried  seizing  the  revolver. 

'McLeod  sprang  toward  Gaston,  groaning  and  crawling 
toward  his  feet.  "  Save  me  Gaston, — the  Doctor's  gone 
mad — he  is  about  to  kill  me !  " 

"  Charlie,  I  must !  "  pleaded  the  Preacher. 

"  No,  no,  this  is  madness.  I  thank  God  I  am  in  time. 
I  missed  you  at  the  speaking,  and  hearing  a  rumour  of 
this  slander  I  hurried  to  find  you.  I  saw  your  study  open 
and  read  your  letter.  I  knew  I'd  find  you  here.  I'll 
manage  McLeod." 

The  Preacher  sat  down  crying.  McLeod  had  crawled 
back  to  his  desk  and  was  mopping  his  face.  Gaston 
walked  over  to  him  and  said  with  slow  trembling 
emphasis, 

"  I  give  you  twelve  hours  to  close  this  office,  wind  up 
your  business,  and  leave.  In  the  meantime  you  will 
write  a  denial  of  this  slander  satisfactory  to  me  for 


The  Higher  Law  453 

publication.  If  you  ever  open  your  mouth  again  about 
my  foster-mother  or  put  your  foot  in  this  county,  I  will 
kill  you.  I  expect  your  letter  ready  in  two  hours." 

Gaston  took  the  Preacher  by  the  arm  and  led  him 
down  the  stairs  and  back  to  his  study.  In  the  reaction, 
there  was  a  pitiable  breakdown. 

"  Oh !  Charlie,  you've  saved  me  from  an  unspeakable 
horror.  Yes,  I  was  mad.  I  was  proud  and  wilful.  I 
thought  I  knew  myself.  To-day,  I  have  looked  into  the 
bottom  of  hell.  I  have  seen  the  depths  of  my  own  heart. 
Yes,  I  have  in  me  the  germs  of  all  sin  and  crime.  I  am 
the  brother  of  every  thief,  of  every  murderer,  of  every 
scarlet  woman  of  the  streets,  that  ever  stood  in  the  stocks, 
or  climbed  the  steps  of  a  gallows  " — 

"  Hush,  I  will  not  listen  to  such  talk.  You  are  a  man, 
that's  all,"  interrupted  Gaston. 

"  But  God's  mercy  is  great,"  he  went  on.  "  I  have 
tried  to  live  for  my  people  and  my  country,  not  for  my- 
self. If  I  have  failed  to  be  a  faithful  husband,  this  is 
my  plea  to  God,  I  have  not  thought  of  myself,  or  of  my 
own,  but  of  others." 

After  an  hour  he  was  quiet,  and  turning  to  Gaston  he 
said, 

"  Charlie,  go  tell  your  mother  to  come  here,  I  want 
to  see  her." 

When  she  came,  and  sat  down  beside  him  with  quiet 
dignity,  she  said,  "  Now  Doctor,  say  what  you  wish, 
Charlie  has  told  me  much,  but  not  all.  Let  us  look  into 
each  other's  souls  to-day." 

"  I  only  want  to  ask  you,  dear,"  he  said  tenderly,  "  just 
how  far  your  friendship  for  this  villain  may  have  led  you. 
I  know  you  are  innocent  of  any  crime.  I  only  want  to 
know  the  measure  of  my  own  guilt." 

"  You  know,  John,"  she  said,  using  his  first  name,  as 
she  had  not  for  years,  "  he  has  always  interested  me  from 


454  The  Leopard's  Spots 

a  boy,  and  in  the  darkest  hour  of  my  heart's  life,  when  I 
felt  your  love  growing  cold  and  slipping  away  from  me, 
and  my  faith  in  all  things  fading,  he  attempted  to  make 
vulgar  love  to  me.  I  repulsed  him  with  scorn,  and  have 
since  treated  him  with  contempt.  You  know  that  I 
kissed  him  once  when  he  was  a  boy.  I  have  told  you  all. 
What  do  you  propose  to  do?  " 

"  What  will  I  do,  my  darling  ?  "  he  softly  asked,  taking 
her  hand.  "  Begin  anew  from  this  moment  to  love  and 
cherish,  honour  and  protect  you  unto  death.  You  are  my 
wife.  I  took  you  a  beautiful  child,  innocent  of  the  world. 
If  you  have  failed  in  the  least,  I  have  failed.  If  you 
have  stumbled  in  the  dark  even  in  your  thought,  I  will 
lift  you  up  in  my  arms  and  soothe  you  as  a  mother  would 
her  babe.  If  you  should  fall  into  the  bottomless  pit, 
into  the  pit  and  down  to  the  lowest  depths  of  hell  I  would 
go,  and  lift  you  in  the  arms  of  my  love.  To  break  the  tie 
that  binds  us  is  unthinkable.  It  has  passed  into  the  in- 
finite. Not  only  are  our  souls  one  in  a  little  boy's  grave, 
but  there  is  something  so  absorbing,  so  interwoven  with 
the  hidden  things  of  nature  in  our  union  that  I  defy  all 
the  fiends  in  perdition  to  break  it.  Love  is  eternal.  And 
your  love  for  me  was  the  great  fixed  thing  in  my  life 
like  my  faith  in  the  living  God ! " 

"  Oh,  John,  you  are  breaking  my  heart  now,  when  1 
think  that  I  doubted  your  love!  I  could  have  brooked 
your  anger,  but  this  overwhelms  me !  " 

"  It  has  always  been  my  character,"  he  gravely  said. 

"  Then  I  have  never  known  you  until  now," — and  in 
a  moment  she  was  sobbing  on  his  breast,  the  years  had 
rolled  back,  and  they  were  in  the  sweet  springtime  of 
life  again. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  END  OF  A  MODERN  VILLAIN 

TWO  days  after  McLeod's  flight  from  Hambright 
the  press  despatches  flashed  from  New  York  a 
startling  two-column  account  of  the  attempted 
assassination  of  the  Hon.  Allan  McLeod,  the  Republican 
leader  of  North  Carolina,  in  the  terrific  campaign  in 
progress,  and  that  he  was  compelled  to  flee  from  the 
state  to  save  his  life. 

Gaston  was  elected  Governor  by  the  largest  majority 
ever  given  a  candidate  for  that  office  in  the  history  of 
North  Carolina. 

McLeod  was  promptly  rewarded  for  his  long  career  of 
villainy  by  an  appointment  as  our  Ambassador  to  one 
of  the  Republics  of  South  America,  and  the  Senate  at 
once  confirmed  him.  The  salary  attached  to  his  office 
was  $15,000,  and  his  dream  of  a  life  of  ease  and  luxury 
had  come  at  last. 

For  six  months  he  had  been  quietly  going  to  Boston 
paying  the  most  ardent  court  to  Miss  Susan  Walker, 
whom  he  had  met  at  her  college  at  Independence.  She 
was  a  matured  spinster  now  appproaching  sixty  years 
of  age,  and  worth  $5,000,000  in  her  own  name. 

He  had  easy  sailing  from  the  first.  He  joined  her 
church  in  Boston,  after  a  brilliant  profession  of  religion 
that  moved  Miss  Walker  to  tears,  for  he  had  told  her  it 
was  her  love  that  had  opened  his  eyes.  And  it  was  true. 

McLeod  timed  his  last  visit  to  Boston  so  that  he  ar- 
455 


456  The  Leopard's  Spots 

rived  the  day  the  city  was  ringing  with  the  sensation  of 
his  attempted  assassination,  and  the  desperate  fight  he 
was  making  to  uphold  law  and  order  in  the  South. 

When  Miss  Walker  read  that  article  in  her  paper  she 
resolved  to  marry  him  immediately.  She  gave  McLeod 
a  wedding  present  of  a  half  million  dollars.  He  wept 
for  joy  and  gratitude,  and  kissed  her  with  a  fervour  that 
satisfied  her  hungry  heart  that  he  was  the  one  peerless 
lover  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
WEDDING  BELLS  IN  THE   GOVERNOR'S  MANSION 

TWO  days  after  McLeod  and  his  bride  reached 
Asheville  on  their  wedding  trip,  General  Worth 
received    a    letter    which    threw    him    into    a 
paroxysm  of  rage.     Sallie's  wedding  had  been  fixed  for 
the  day  of  the  inauguration  of  the  Governor.    The  invita- 
tions were  out  and  society  in  a  flutter  of  comment  and 
gossip  over  the  romantic  and  brilliant  career  of  young 
Gaston,  and  his  luck  in  winning  power,  love,  and  fortune 
in  a  day. 

The  letter  was  from  McLeod,  at  Asheville,  informing 
him  that  his  daughter  was  already  married,  and  that 
Gaston  was  simply  seeking  his  fortune  by  a  subterfuge, 
and  showing  his  power  over  him  by  humiliating  him  at 
the  last  moment  before  the  world.  He  enclosed  a  tran- 
script of  the  marriage  record,  signed  by  the  Rev.  John 
Durham,  and  witnessed  by  Mrs.  Durham  and  Stella  Holt. 
This  record  was  certified  before  the  Clerk  of  the  Court 
and  bore  his  seal.  There  was  no  doubt  whatever  of  the 
facts. 

When  the  General  handed  this  letter  to  Sallie  she 
flushed,  looked  wistfully  into  his  face,  saw  its  hard  ex- 
pression of  speechless  anger,  turned  pale  and  burst  into 
tears. 

Her  father  without  a  word  went  to  his  room,  and 
locked  himself  in  for  twenty-four  hours,  refusing  to  see 
her  or  speak  to  her. 

457 


458  The  Leopard's  Spots 

On  the  following  day  she  forced  her  way  into  his 
presence,  and  they  had  the  last  great  battle  of  wills.  All 
the  iron  power  of  his  unconquered  pride,  accustomed  for 
a  lifetime  to  command  men  and  receive  instant  obedience, 
was  roused  to  the  pitch  of  madness. 

"  If  you  marry  him  I  swear  to  you  a  thousand  times 
you  shall  never  cross  my  doorstep,  and  you  shall  never 
receive  one  penny  of  my  fortune.  He  is  a  gambler  and 
an  adventurer,  and  seeks  to  make  me  a  laughing  stock 
for  the  world !  " 

"  Papa,  nothing  could  be  further  from  his  thoughts. 
He  has  always  loved  and  respected  you.  I  assume  all  the 
responsibility  for  our  secret  marriage." 

"  Then  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  is  the  ingratitude 
of  a  disobedient  child !  " 

"  But,  Papa,  I  waited  five  years  of  patient  suffering 
trying  to  obey  you,"  she  protested. 

"  I  had  rather  see  you  dead  than  to  see  you  marry  that 
man  now,  and  have  him  sneer  his  triumph  in  my  face." 

"  We  are  already  married.  Why  talk  like  that?  "  she 
pleaded  tearfully. 

"  I  deny  it.  I  am  going  to  annul  that  marriage.  Felony 
is  ground  for  the  dissolution  of  the  marriage  tie.  A 
ceremony  performed  under  such  conditions,  when  one  of 
the  parties  is  in  prison  charged  with  felony  without  bail, 
is  illegal,  and  I'll  show  it.  The  lawyers  will  be  here  in 
an  hour  and  I  will  take  action  to-morrow." 

"  Never,  with  my  consent !  "  she  firmly  replied.  She 
left  the  room,  consulted  with  her  mother,  and  hastily 
despatched  a  telegram  to  Hambright  summoning  Gaston 
to  Independence  immediately. 

When  this  telegram  came  he  was  in  his  office  hard  at 
work  on  his  inaugural  address,  outlining  the  policy  of  his 
administration.  He  was  in  a  heated  argument  with  the 


Wedding  Bells  in  the  Governor's  Mansion   459 

Preacher  about  the  article  on  education,  which  followed 
his  recommendation  of  the  disfranchisement  of  the  Negro. 

He  had  advised  large  appropriations  for  the  industrial 
training  of  negroes  along  the  lines  of  the  new  movement 
of  their  more  sober  leaders. 

"  It's  a  mistake/'  argued  the  Preacher,  "  if  the  Negro 
is  made  master  of  the  industries  of  the  South  he  will 
become  the  master  of  the  South.  Sooner  than  allqw  him 
to  take  the  bread  from  their  mouths,  the  white  men  will 
kill  him  here,  as  they  do  North,  when  the  struggle  for 
bread  becomes  as  tragic.  The  Negro  must  ultimately 
leave  this  continent.  You  might  as  well  begin  to  pre- 
pare for  it." 

"  But  we  propose  to  train  him  principally  in  Agricul- 
ture. We  need  millions  of  good  farmers,"  persisted 
Gaston. 

"  So  much  the  worse,  I  tell  you,"  replied  the  Preacher. 
"  Make  the  Negro  a  scientific  and  successful  farmer,  and 
let  him  plant  his  feet  deep  in  your  soil,  and  it  will  mean 
a  race  war." 

"  It  seems  to  me  impracticable  ever  to  move  him." 

"Why?"  asked  the  Preacher.  "Those  over  certain 
ages  can  be  left  to  end  their  days  here.  The  Negro  has 
cost  us  already  the  loss  of  $7,003,000,000,  a  war  that 
killed  a  half  million  men,  the  debauchery  of  our  suffrage, 
the  corruption  of  our  life,  and  threatens  the  future  with 
anarchy.  Lincoln  was  right  when  he  said, 

'  There  is  a  physical  difference  between  the  white  and 
the  black  races,  which  I  believe  will  forever  forbid  them 
living  together  on  terms  of  social  and  political  equality/ 

"  Even  you  are  still  labouring  under  the  delusions  of 
'  Reconstruction.'  The  Ethiopian  can  not  change  his 
skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots.  Those  who  think  it  pos- 
sible will  always  tell  you  that  the  place  to  work  this  mira- 


460  The  Leopard's  Spots 

cle  is  in  the  South.  Exactly.  If  a  man  really  believes 
in  equality,  let  him  prove  it  by  giving  his  daughter  to  a 
negro  in  marriage.  That  is  the  test.  When  she  sinks 
with  her  mulatto  children  into  the  black  abyss  of  a 
Negroid  life,  then  ask  him!  Your  scheme  of  education 
is  humbug.  You  don't  believe  that  any  amount  of  educa- 
tion can  fit  a  negro  to  rule  an  Anglo-Saxon,  or  to  marry 
his  daughter .  Then  don't  be  a  hypocrite." 

"  But  can  we  afford  to  stop  his  education  ?  " 

"  The  more  you  educate,  the  more  impossible  you  make 
his  position  in  a  democracy.  Education !  Can  you 
change  the  colour  of  his  skin,  the  kink  of  his  hair,  the 
bulge  of  his  lips,  the  spread  of  his  nose,  or  the  beat  of  his 
heart,  with  a  spelling  book?  The  Negro  is  the  human 
donkey.  You  can  train  him,  but  you  can't  make  of  him 
a  horse.  Mate  him  with  a  horse,  you  lose  the  horse,  and 
get  a  larger  donkey  called  a  mule,  incapable  of  preserv- 
ing his  species.  What  is  called  our  race  prejudice  is 
simply  God's  first  law  of  nature — the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation." 

Gaston  was  gazing  at  the  ceiling  with  an  absent  look 
in  his  eyes  and  a  smile  playing  around  his  lips. 

"  You  are  not  listening  to  me  now,  you  young  rascal ! 
You  are  dreaming  about  your  bride." 

Gaston  quickly  lowered  his  eyes,  and  saw  the  messen- 
ger boy  who  had  been  standing  several  minutes  with  his 
telegram. 

He  read  Sallie's  message  with  amazement. 

"  What  can  that  mean  ?  "  He  handed  the  telegram  to 
the  Preacher. 

"  It  means  he  has  discovered  the  facts,  and  there  is 
going  to  be  trouble.  He  is  a  man  of  terrific  passions 
when  his  pride  is  roused." 

"  I  must  go  immediately." 

He  closed  his  office  and  caught  his  train  after  a  hard 


Wedding  Bells  in  the  Governor's  Mansion   461 

drive.  When  he  reached  Independence  he  sprang  into  a 
carriage  and  ordered  the  driver  to  take  him  direct  to 
Oakwood.  What  had  happened  he  did  not  know  and 
he  did  not  care.  Of  one  thing  he  was  now  sure — Sallie's 
love  and  the  swift  end  of  their  separation. 

His  heart  was  singing  with  a  great  joy  as  he  drove 
over  the  familiar  avenue  through  the  deep  shadows  of 
the  woods,  and  turning  through  the  gate  saw  the  light 
gleaming  from  her  room. 

"  God  bless  her,  she's  mine  now — I  hope  I  can  take  her 
home  to-night !  "  he  cried. 

She  had  walked  down  the  drive  to  meet  him.  He 
leaped  from  the  carriage,  kissed  her  and  asked, 

"What  is  it,  dear?" 

"  McLeod  wrote  him  about  our  marriage,  and  now  he 
swears  he  will  bring  a  suit  to  annul  it.  Leave  your  car- 
riage here  and  come  with  me.  If  he  don't  send  these 
lawyers  away  and  receive  you,  I  will  be  ready  to  go  with 
you  in  an  hour." 

"  Queen  of  my  heart !  "  he  whispered.  "  You  are  all 
mine  at  last !  " 

She  called  her  father  from  the  library  into  the  parlour 
and  stood  on  the  very  spot  where  Gaston  had  writhed 
in  agony  on  that  night  of  his  interview  with  the  General. 

He  started  at  the  expression  on  her  face  and  the  tense 
vigour  with  which  she  held  herself  erect.  His  suit  had  not 
been  progressing  well  with  his  lawyers.  They  had  tried 
to  humour  him,  but  had  declined  to  express  any  hope  of 
success  in  such  an  action.  He  saw  they  were  half- 
hearted and  it  depressed  him. 

"  Now,  Papa,"  she  firmly  said,  "  It  will  not  take  us  ten 
minutes  to  decide  forever  the  question  of  our  lives.  If 
you  take  another  step  with  these  lawyers, — if  you  do  not 
dismiss  them  at  once,  I  will  leave  this  house  in  an  hour, 
go  with  the  man  of  my  choice  to  his  home,  and  you  will 


462  The  Leopard's  Spots 

never  see  me  again.  You  shall  not  humiliate  me  or  him 
another  hour." 

The  General  looked  at  her  as  though  stunned,  his  voice 
trembled  as  he  replied, 

"  Would  you  leave  me  so  in  an  hour,  dear  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Charlie  is  waiting  there  on  the  porch  for  me 
now,  and  his  carriage  is  outside.  I  will  not  subject  him 
to  another  insult,  nor  allow  any  one  else  to  do  it." 

The  General  sank  heavily  into  a  chair,  and  stretched 
out  his  hands  toward  her  in  a  gesture  of  tender  en- 
treaty. 

"  Come  child  and  kiss  me, — you  know  I  can't  live  with- 
out you !  Forgive  all  the  foolish  things  I've  said  in  anger 
and  pride.  Your  happiness  is  more  to  me  than  all  else." 

She  was  crying  now  in  his  arms. 

"  Go,  bring  Charlie.  The  youngster  has  beaten  me. 
I've  fought  a  foeman  worthy  of  my  steel.  It's  no  dis- 
grace to  surrender  to  him." 

In  a  moment  she  led  Gaston  into  the  room,  and  the 
General  grasped  his  hand. 

"  Young  man,  for  the  last  time  I  welcome  you  to  this 
house.  Now,  it  is  yours.  You  can  run  this  place  to  suit 
yourself.  I've  worked  all  my  life  for  Sallie.  I  give  up 
the  ship  to  you." 

"  General,  let  me  assure  you  of  my  warmest  love.  I 
have  never  said  an  unkind  thing  or  harboured  a  harsh 
thought  toward  you.  I  shall  be  proud  of  you  as  my 
father.  I  have  loved  you  and  Mrs.  Worth  since  the  first 
day  I  looked  into  Sallie's  face." 

The  invitations  stood.  Gaston  returned  immediately  to 
Hambright,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  inauguration,  ac- 
companied by  Bob  St.  Clare,  and  the  Chief  Justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court,  he  entered  the  grand  old  mansion  with 
its  stately  pillars  and  claimed  his  bride.  The  Chief  Jus- 
tice performed  a  civil  ceremony,  and  the  party  started  on 


Wedding  Bells  in  the  Governor's  Mansion   463 

a  triumphal  procession  to  the  Capital.  The  General  was 
bubbling  over  with  pride  in  the  handsome  appearance  the 
bride  and  groom  made,  and  tried  to  outdo  himself  in 
kindliness  toward  Gaston. 

"  Come  to  think  it  over,  Governor,"  he  said  to  him 
after  the  inauguration,  "  it  was  a  brave  thing  in  my  little 
girl  marching  into  that  jail  alone  and  marrying  her  lover 
in  a  prison,  wasn't  it?  By  George,  she's  a  chip  off  the 
old  block !  I  don't  care  if  the  world  does  know  it !  " 

"  General,  that  was  the  bravest  thing  a  woman  could 
do.  She  is  the  heroine  of  the  drama.  I  play  second 
part." 

They  did  not  wait  long  for  the  people  to  know  it.  At 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  an  extra  appeared  with  a 
startling  account  of  the  fact  that  the  Governor's  beautiful 
bride  had  braved  the  world  and  secretly  married  him 
when  his  fortunes  were  at  ebb-tide,  and  he  was  a  prisoner 
in  the  Asheville  jail. 

That  night  when  Sallie  entered  the  Banquet  Hall  of 
the  Governor's  Mansion,  leaning  proudly  on  Gaston's 
arm,  she  was  greeted  with  an  outburst  of  homage  and 
deep  feeling  she  had  never  dreamed  of  receiving.  When 
the  Governor  acknowledged  the  applause  of  his  name, 
he  bowed  to  his  bride,  not  to  the  crowd. 

The  Preacher  rose  to  respond  to  the  toast,  "  The  Master 
and  the  Mistress  of  the  Governor's  Mansion,"  and  seemed 
to  pay  no  attention  to  the  Governor,  but  turning  to  Sallie, 
he  said,  ;'• 

"  To  the  queenly  daughter  of  the  South,  who  had  eyes 
to  see  a  glorious  manhood  behind  prison  bars,  the  nobility 
to  stoop  from  wealth  to  poverty  and  transform  a  jail  into 
a  palace  with  the  beauty  of  her  face  and  the  splendour 
of  her  love — to  her,  the  heroine  who  inspired  Charles 
Gaston  with  power  to  mould  a  million  wills  in  his,  change 
the  current  of  history,  and  become  the  Governor  of  the 


464  The  Leopard's  Spots 

Commonwealth — to    her    all    honour,    and    praise,    and 
homage . 

"  My  daughter,  it  is  meet  that  our  wealth  and  beauty 
should  mate  with  the  genius  and  chivalry  of  the  South. 
May  it  ever  be  so,  and  may  your  children's  children  be  as 
the  sands  of  the  sea !  " 

Sallie  bowed  her  head  as  every  eye  was  turned  admir- 
ingly upon  her.  The  General  trembled,  and,  when  the 
crowd  rose  to  their  feet  and  reechoed,  "  To  her  all  honour 
and  praise  and  homage,"  and  the  Governor  bent  proudly 
kissing  her  hand,  he  bowed  his  head  and  wept. 

Her  mother  sitting  by  her  side  with  shining  eyes 
pressed  her  hand  and  whispered, 

"  My  beautiful  daughter,  now  my  work  is  done/' 

As  Gaston  'strolled  out  on  the  lawn  with  his  bride  after 
the  banquet,  they  found  a  seat  in  a  secluded  spot  amid 
the  shrubbery. 

"  My  sweet  wife ! ,"  he  exclaimed, 

"  My  husband ! "  she  whispered,  as  they  tenderly 
clasped  hands. 

"  Tell  me  now  who  was  the  author  of  all  those  lies 
about  me  to  your  father?  " 

"  Why  ask  it,  dear  ?  You  know  Allan  wrote  the  last 
letter." 

"  The  dastard.  I  was  sure  of  it  from  the  first.  Well, 
he  had  the  facts  in  that  last  letter,  didn't  he?  " 

"  Yes/'  she  answered  with  a  smile. 

They  rose  to  return  to  the  Mansion,  roused  by  the 
stroke  of  midnight  from  the  clock  in  the  tower  of  the 
City  Hall. 

"  From  to-night,  my  dear,"  he  said,  with  enthusiasm, 
"  you  will  share  with  me  all  the  honours  and  responsibili- 
ties of  public  life." 

"  No,  my  love,  I  do  not  desire  any  part  in  public  life 
except  through  you.  You  are  my  world.  I  ask  no  higher 


Wedding  Bells  in  the  Governor's  Mansion   465 

gift  of  God  than  your  love,  whether  you  live  in  a  Gover- 
nor's Mansion,  or  the  humblest  cottage.  I  desire  no 
career  save  that  of  a  wife —  your  wife  "  — she  hid  her 
face  on  his  breast  as  a  little  sob  caught  her  voice,  "  and 
I  would  not  change  places  with  the  proudest  queen  that 
ever  wore  a  crown !  "  She  said  this  looking  up  into  his 
face  through  a  mist  of  tears. 

With  trembling  lips  and  dimmed  eyes  he  stooped  and 
kissed  her  as  he  replied, 

"  And  I  had  rather  be  the  husband  of  such  a  woman 
than  to  be  the  ruler  of  the  world." 


THE  BUD 


1  MASON ..  .  ...  .  The  Four  Feathers. 

2  f  COE  .   .  .   ...   .   .  The  Religion  of  a  Mature  Mind. 

1  MASON The  Little  Green  God. 

3  McCuTCHEON Castle  Craneycrow. 

4  WATANNA The  Wooing  of  Wistaria. 

5  CONNOLLY v  ,  .  Out  of  Gloucester. 

-^  f  RICE Lovey  Mary 

\VANVORST The  Woman  who  Toils. 

2    WILLIAMS ...  The  Captain. 

0  T™  /   Letters  from  a  Self-made  Merchant 

\        to  His  Son. 

4  HARRIS Gabriel  Tolliver. 

5  DAVIS Captain  Macklin. 

1  WILSON •   •  •  The  Spenders 

2  EGGLESTON     ....;.  The  Master  of  Warlock. 

3  BELL Abroad  with  the  Jimmies. 

4  FOSTER   .   .   .  American  Diplomacy  in  the  Orient. 

5  LANG The  Disentanglers. 

1  JEROME Paul  Kelver. 

2  POTTER  .   .   .  The  East  of  To-day  and  To-morrow. 

3  NORRIS .  The  Pit. 

4  HARBEN Abner  Daniel. 

5  CASTLE The  Star  Dreamer. 

1  GHENT Our  Benevolent  Feudalism. 

2  f  VAN  DYKE The  Blue  Flower. 

I  MARTIN Emmy  Lou. 

3  CHAMBERS The  Maid-at-Arms. 

4  PEAKE '.-..".    .   .  The  Pride  of  Telf air. 

5  WARD   .........   Lady  Rose's  Daughter. 

1  KELLER The  Story  of  my  Life. 

2  DASKAM  .  ,   .  .   .   .   Whom  the  Gods  Destroyed. 

3  HARTE Condensed  Novels. 

4  DIXON The  Leopard's  Spots. 

5  HIGGINSON   .    .   .  Henry  Wads  worth  Longfellow. 


